Chase Me
by Zancrow
Summary: {Bruce / Selina} Gotham City will become their playground. As Selina takes Bruce on her heists, at his insistence of learning of the "criminal mind", the two start to learn just how dangerous the thrill can be. All relationships got to start somewhere. ((05: The Brave & The Bold)) - Previously Titled: "SIRENS"
1. The Cat and the Claw: Part 1

** SIRENS**

**Rating: **T+

**Pairing: **Bruce/Selina

**Genre: **Romance, Suspense

**Notes:**

Normally I'd wait until the two characters I'm writing about have a chance to meet each other before writing a story about them, but having this idea in my head, I wanted to start writing it before I am influenced by what the show is doing and it stops being what my idea originally started as; which is the relationship between the Cat and Bat if they met when they were younger. Before the crime fighting. Before the costumes.

This is based half on what Gotham is and half on what everyone's expectations of Gotham are.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Gotham.

* * *

The large doors that adorned the front of the manor began to open inwards before the curled up fist could even reach them, causing the person who had been intending on knocking on the door to take a minor step back as if contemplating whether or not the door was automatic. Before he could see his way inside, since an open door is an invitation to enter, he was stopped by the sight of a young boy peering outwards. It was not who he had been expecting to see.

"Bruce!" he exclaimed rather loudly, followed by a soft laugh. "My, my. In all my years coming here; I've never seen a Wayne actually answer his own door. Is everything alright?"

Despite smiling and laughing at his own commentary, all he was met as a response was the young boy's scowl, as Bruce Wayne's eyes narrowed while eyeing him directly. "You hadn't knocked," he stated, his voice low. "I wasn't answering, I was stepping out."

"That makes more sense," another laugh found his way out as the older man tried to look past the young boy and towards the interior of the mansion; hoping to see someone a bit older. At this, he saw as the door proceeded to close itself more. "Hey now," the elder man was quick to speak. "Do you remember who I am?"

"Master Bruce!" another voice echoed through the manor; accompanied by hurried steps heard coming from the staircase. In a matter of moments another man made his way towards the front doors; where he was greeted by the sight of the "master" of the mansion and of a newly arrived "guest". "Master Bruce," this time he spoke a bit more softly. "You don't have to get the door, that's what I'm here for," he stops as he turns towards the visitor. "Sorry about that mate, but thing around here have been… adapting quite a bit, if I say."

"Perfectly understandable," his voice perfectly polite; Bruce's eyes didn't leave his. "I'm so sorry to drop by unannounced, but this is a very, very last minute situation which I found necessary, if only respectful, to come here personally and inform."

"Let him in Alfred," the young master notes, before turning towards the living room. Alfred merely extends his arm as he presents the way; causing the older man to fake a smile and follow through. The way towards the living room, and the living room itself, was impeccable as always; something which the other man found impressive given the lack of personnel aside from the resident sarcastic servant. As they made their way into the living room, the guest took a seat on the couch, with the young master seated across from him, leg crossed over the other and hands held together with fingers intercrossed. He was eyeing him intensely, which became a bit unsettlingly.

"Oh… Erm, yes. Bruce. I know you may not remember me, but I've known you since you were a very small boy. I've been a partner of your father since quite early in the business, even," he speaks as he signals to the portrait of the recently deceased Thomas and Martha Wayne; hanging in the wall just above the currently unlit fireplace.

"I know full well who you are Mr. Earle, and I thank you for the visit. But if it's something as urgent as you implied, would it be rude to ask just what it is?" even before he had asked, he felt a nudge on his shoulder from Alfred, hinting that he was being rude, but Bruce himself had little patience for this man right now. For anyone from that company right now.

"You're really sounding like a Wayne now, always business first, pleasures later. You'll have a good future with us, when you're of age," he paused, before smiling. "Just wanted to hand these to you, personally. Didn't want to make a big show of it tomorrow on the tube."

He handed Alfred a box, which the butler took and gave to Bruce, who in turn quickly proceeded to open it. His face became a bit surprised, but his eyes were down casted as a result. He heard as Alfred muttered towards William Earle that it was a nice detail, but Bruce felt himself slip a bit. "These are…"

"Acknowledgements. For a fine work on our city and our economy. They were to be handled out on tomorrow's big event at the company's little get together, but I thought that it would be best if I just gave them to you," he motioned towards the box. Inside were two golden statues, with the inscription dedicated towards "Thomas" and "Martha". Accompanying the trophies was a sealed envelope; with the words: "Best Citizens" written on the envelope. Bruce traced his finger around the words.

"I'll leave it to you then," William Earle spoke up as he stood, while Alfred motioned towards him and lead him towards the doorway.

As the two elder men reached the doorway, Alfred was quick to speak. "While I appreciate the attention to detail and the thought Mr. Earle, I would be grateful it next time such "surprises" would be given without the boy being present. It hasn't even been a month."

"Oh, I meant no harm Pennyworth," the other responded. "I, no, we felt the boy deserved to receive some acknowledgement of the good his parents did."

"For that, you are correct. And you have my gratitude. But, he must be told if it's something about his parents beforehand. Emotionally, I don't feel he is in the right state to be receiving such news; be they good news or otherwise," Alfred spoke sternly, causing William to eye him briefly. Instead of objecting, the other man smiled and gave a brief bow.

"I apologize Pennyworth," he mentioned. "I will be more… thoughtful if another occurrence allows me to."

"Tis all I ask."

"Very well," William Earle spoke as he shook Alfred's hand, noticing how strong a grip the butler of the house and current legal guardian of the young master had. Thomas' jokes about Alfred's toughness took a new meaning to him now. "I'll leave you two then," he continued, inconspicuously rubbing his right hand. "Hope young Bruce is alright."

"He-"

"I'll go," the sudden voice interrupted what Alfred had attempted to say, causing both men to turn. Walking towards them was Bruce, holding the box in his arms, shut tightly. He walked passed Alfred and reached William, handing the box and its contents to the Wayne employee. As William gave him a confused look, which Alfred shared, Bruce spoke. "I believe you're correct in your assessment that, well, that I do need a reminder of the good my parents did."

"What have I told ya about eavesdropping Master Bruce?"

"Easy, Alfred," Bruce turned towards his butler and parental figure as he spoke. "You two weren't being that quiet to begin with. I could hear you well without having to move."

As Alfred proceeded to shake his head and mutter something to himself; Bruce turned back towards William Earle. "As I was saying, I like to hear about how the good my parents did is still being acknowledged even if they are no longer… well-"

"That they are still inspiring people and helping our community," Alfred cut in, to which Bruce allowed himself a small smile. He responded with a nod towards William, as the older man shifted his view from Bruce, to Alfred, to the box.

"I understand that," he turned back towards Bruce. "But why are you returning it to me? It is rightfully yours."

"Why indeed…"

"Because," Bruce spoke up, ignoring Alfred's input. "I want to go receive it in their name at the event."

"Master Bruce," Alfred quickly spoke, his tone becoming a bit louder. Tugging the young boy by the shoulder, he pulled him from the doorway and towards the living room again. "Mr. Earle, excuse us just a sec."

"Alfred," Bruce spoke up as he entered the living room, waiting until Alfred closed the door. "He can still hear us."

"I bloody know he can, but can you hear yourself?" Alfred's voice was softer, but still ever stern. "You hardly eat, you hardly sleep; you've become obsessed with "conquering fear and pain" so much that you've hurt yourself constantly… I could go on, hoping you can understand me."

"Al-"

"Not done," Alfred placed his index finger near the young boy's lips, causing Bruce to frown but he remained quite nonetheless. "Do you seriously think it would do you well to go to this big event, the first without the presence of the Wayne family, to receive this there? You've never been involved with the company, it's best for you to take those trophies and store them in their honor. You are not taking anything from their accomplishment by not going to pick them up at a televised event."

"I know that," Bruce spoke up, his voice mirroring Alfred's own. "But it seems fair to me. Were mom and dad still alive, they would have been there, getting thanked for all the hard work they've done. And this event doesn't have to be the first without the Wayne family. You've said it yourself; I'm a Wayne. There's still… one left…"

His voice began to crack, but before he could he was wrapped around Alfred's arms, allowing the boy to place his head against the elder man's neck. "Bruce," his voice was now soft, as paternal as Alfred's voice allowed him to. "I understand you. You want to preserve their legacy. What they did. But… you haven't gone out of this house since it happened. Reporters, employees, paparazzi… They're going to storm after you like there's no tomorrow. You don't have to put yourself through that yet."

"I know," Bruce spoke up, his voice muffled since he was so tightly held. "Can we just go, pick up the prize, and leave?"

Alfred sighed, pushing Bruce away in order to make eye contact with him. "You're dead set on this, no?"

The boy nodded.

"Very well," Alfred spoke as he separated himself from Bruce. "We'll go in, pick up the prize, and out we go. I'll just have to fend off anyone who attempts to get something out of you. Shouldn't be too hard… Might as well give the old hunting shotgun some use."

As Bruce gave a soft laugh, Alfred turned towards the door. "Might as well tell good old Mr. Earle that his trip has been for naught."

"He can hear you."

"Mr. Earle. Your trip has been for naught," Alfred spoke louder from the living room, before giving Bruce a light tug and walking towards where their guest waited. Bruce, while still smiling, turned towards the portrait of his parents. They looked younger, given that the painting was one before Martha had given birth to Bruce; and their faces seemed so serene. He could make this one sacrifice and do what his father would have done.

-0-

"Now listen up Master Bruce," Alfred's voice caused him to turn towards the front of the limousine, where his butler was seated as he drove towards the event. It had been the second time Bruce had been inside the automobile since his parents were no longer with him, the first being when Alfred picked him up at the scene of their crime. He had been trying all the way to drown out those thought with heavy rock music at the loudest setting, but Alfred's increasing voice tone finally caught his attention. "Master Bruce!"

"I hear you, what?"

"Remember what we talked about yesterday, and earlier today," he tapped on the window as he spoke, signaling that they had arrived at the scene. Bruce peeked from the window and he saw that only a few people were currently outside, but the parking lot seemed filled out to its max capacity. "We should be arriving at nearly the right time when they announce Mr. and Mrs. Wayne's acknowledgement. So it's a go in, pick it up; you give the little speech we prepared and we walk out. Not a second more, alright."

"Understood."

"Good boy, now let us find a parking spot. We're going in from the back…" as Alfred spoke, Bruce proceeded to shut down his MP3 and store it is his pocket. He hadn't been this well dressed in a while either, with matching black tuxedo attire, proper since he considered himself to be still mourning his parents. He wanted nothing flashy or disrespectful.

As Alfred parked behind the building, with only a few security guards present, he proceeded to exit the vehicle.

"Can we help you sir?" one of the guards approached Alfred as he walked from his door towards where Bruce was at.

"You most certainly can," Alfred spoke up, eyeing the younger man. "I may need to keep this under wraps and get this fellow inside from the back. I'd tell you to find me Mr. Earle, but this one here has equal if not more authority," Alfred opened the door to allow Bruce to exit as he spoke, causing the guard's eyes to bulge.

"Bruce Wayne! I wasn't informed he was coming."

"With good reason," Alfred spoke up. "Can you get us inside?"

The question was more of a command, one that the guard followed to an expertise. Within moments, Bruce found himself and Alfred being led by the guards towards a stairwell, followed by being entered by a doorway at the back of the building and into the interior. From the inside he could hear the noise, the laughter, the talking. The smell of champagne and flowers filled the area; while a soft beat music got louder with each step he took towards where they were leading them.

The place seemed fancy enough, though the back hallways were not as decorated as he suspected the main party area to be. This whole building was, as Alfred explained, just a rentable building that the Wayne Industries rented often for company events, such as this. What caught his eye mostly; however, were the many black ribbons which adorned the many halls, even this far back. He felt a little something in his chest, like a minor stab, but felt it adequate. The mere idea of the company throwing a party, with the laughter, the music, so soon didn't sit right with him. At least, these details meant someone missed his parents. Someone took the time to address their passing. Bruce made a mental note to ask who did this; they deserved a raise.

"I'll inform Mr. Earle, feel free to await here and do as you see fit."

"Thanks," Alfred mentioned as the security guard walked from the room they had been left at, possibly towards the main room where Earle was undoubtedly at. "Now, we wait," Alfred continued, directed at Bruce. "Once we get our cue, we walk up, you give your three sentence speech, and we walk. Possibly the same way we came."

"Got it," Bruce spoke, looking around. He had already memorized the plan. Only make their presence known when they were called up. Not to answer a single question; and only to deliver the speech he and Alfred had come up with. They had written the speech on an index card, carefully tugged away in the left side pocket of his coat.

His coat.

He had left his coat on the limousine.

His eyes widened a bit as he felt like smacking himself. He had made the effort not to miss a single detail from their plan, but he left the speech. He thought about trying to say it from memory, it wasn't too much written on it, but should he risk it? If he were to stutter or to pause, it could give room for anyone to interrupt or interpret it the wrong way. He had to act it professionally, genuine. And he couldn't tell Alfred this.

Alfred had made it clear he didn't like this idea. If he had to go back to the limousine, he could probably take it as an excuse to leave.

'No,' Bruce thought to himself. He couldn't let fear take over him again, not out of something this trivial. He memorized the way from where they are to where the limousine was parked. He remembered how he had not locked the door he had used, having been a bit taken aback by the nervousness of arriving. He could quickly go out, get his coat, and go back in before they were called in. Just needed an excuse.

"I need to use the bathroom," Bruce exclaimed, causing Alfred to turn towards the younger boy.

"Bathroom? Didn't ya use it before we left?"

"I'm a little nervous. Don't want to leak up there, you know?"

"…I don't know where-"

"I saw one on the way, I'll be right back," Bruce turned around and walked towards where they were brought in.

"Oi, hold up there Master Bruce," Alfred went after him as he spoke. "Alone you're not going. Don't want to cause a scene on the off-chance someone from the Gotham Gazette decides to use the throne."

"Alfred, please," Bruce turned and narrowed his eyes. "No one from the party is going to come all this way back to use the bathroom. This place has like eight different bathrooms closer to the main room than the one I saw back here. It's probably for the staff or something. A-And it was unlocked, since the door was ajar."

"But-"

"No buts," Bruce interrupted. "I need you here if they call us up. Just tell them I'll be a minute, two tops."

Alfred sighed. While it was true he wanted the young master to display more independence; going along with his late father's wishes, but sometimes he wished the young boy would be a bit more prepared when it came to this situations. With all the preparation time they had, he had hoped he would not have to be forced to deviate from plan at all. But, nature calls he supposed. "Fine, two minutes. One second longer and I'm coming after you."

"Got it!" with that said, Bruce ran out of the room, heading directly through the way they were lead in. A right; followed by another right; then walk up straight before turning one left. Following his mental instructions, he quickly found himself outside again. He moved towards the limousine, careful not to be spotted by any of the guards, before reaching the door he had been led out of. Opening it carefully not to make a sound, he quickly grabbed the coat and pulled… before he found himself unable to get it out. Was it stuck?

"Hey!" a shout was heard, but what scared Bruce the most was that it came from the inside of the limousine. "Find your own ride, I was here first!"

Bruce's eyes widened as he contemplated what he saw. His coat was caught up by a young girl, dressed in all black, with equally dark hair. She was currently laying across were he had been sitting before, on top of his coat, her arms curled and her fingernails pointed at him. Her eyes seemed to be almost glowing.

"Keep staring and you're going to lose those eyes," the girl spoke up, causing Bruce to come back to. He supposed he was asking for something like this by leaving the limousine unlocked in a city like Gotham, guards or no guards.

"Get out of my car," he spoke up, sternly. Ignoring the fact that it wasn't a car, he wasn't going to let someone, anyone, get inside. Who knows what she'd do. "Or I'm calling the guards."

"Oh no, that'd be new… Say," she stopped, eyeing the boy. "Hey! You're Bruce Wayne. I knew this fancy thing would belong to a big shot at the Wayne Company, but I didn't think it would be yours."

"And you are?" he knew most people, even thieves, would know his name or who he was; but she seemed cheery about it.

"My name's Cat."

"Cat? Like the animal?"

"No, Cat like the reporter. Of course the animal," she sat up, stretching her limbs as she did. "Guess your kicking me out, huh? Pity, this ride's pretty comfy. Beats sleeping at the station, or juvie, ick."

He was having a little hard time following this girl's, Cat's as she said, line of conversation. She seemed pretty catlike in that respect at least, the way she moved and the way she fixed her hair with her palm instead of her fingers. "Even if you are Bruce Wayne, keep staring and you're going to lose your eyes."

"I'm not staring!" he lied. "I'm waiting for you to get out."

"Mean."

"Master Bruce!"

If the cat-girl had made any attempt to actually get out of the limousine, she quickly darted back inside when she heard the older man yelling. Bruce's complexion turned pale, realizing he had probably been outside far more than the allowed two minutes. He turned to face the girl, as she shook her head and motioned him not to reveal her. He then turned to face an incoming angry Alfred.

"Just what the bloody hell did we talk about! I was very clear when I said we pick up the trophies, and leave. Or would ya rather leave now?" as Alfred approached, Bruce quickly shut the door between him and the girl.

"Sorry," he quickly replied. "At the bathroom I noticed that I left my coat out here, and in it was the speech. I didn't want to make you regret taking me here if I diverted from what we planned, so I tried to get it back quickly…" he spoke up. He was surprised how what he had originally tried to avoid Alfred finding out, save the bathroom part, was now a better cover up than the invading girl in the limousine. Which he found surprising as to why he was even helping her in the first place.

Alfred stopped a few steps from him, contemplating. "For what it's worth, this part of the parking is rather empty; but do this again and I won't follow any more of your little ideas, am I clear?"

"Clear as day."

"Good, grab the coat. It's our turn."

"Oh, right," he spoke as he opened the door, trying to avoid Alfred looking inside. He quickly placed his hand inside of the coat's pocket, earning him a glare from the girl as she watched where his hand was going, and pulled the index card out. "Got it right here."

"And the coat?"

"Don't need it, just the speech. It's not too cold out here right now," he was lying, it was cold. But he didn't think he could pull the coat out without having her move which would undoubtedly cause Alfred to notice something amiss. So he placed the index card in his pant pocket, before shutting the door tightly and walking towards the back entrance. "Let's go Alfred, let's get this over with."

As Alfred followed, the two of them made their way into the back entrance, leaving the girl alone as she stared at the roof of the limousine. Her light green eyes flickered as she contemplated what to do. She had had every intention of meeting the young heir to the Wayne family, but not right now. Still, she smiled, since he was probably the most interesting person she could meet in Gotham right now… And he was going to give a speech of some sort. She couldn't miss that.

And out of the car she went, being careful to lock every door as she did. This was Gotham after all.

* * *

The Author Rants About:

AU

As in, whether this classifies as AU or not. After only two episodes in, we hardly know anything about either Bruce or Selina to be able to write correctly about them. The result could be them getting too much out-of-character and I normally don't like that. Then again, in my defense, Gotham is based on the Batman mythos. 75-plus years of characterization and storylines to choose from, so I can't be too far off if I base them around other similar portrayals.

Bruce Wayne seems like a mix between his Batman Begins persona, similar childhood and the prominent fear element; mixed with Batman The Animated Series character who even as Bruce Wayne he was a more caring and helpful individual; as opposed to other portrayals where the Bruce Wayne persona is just an overacted playboy.

Selina Kyle dresses similar to the Tim Burton's version, helped with the fact that Camren Bicondova looks very similar to Michelle Pfeffier. Add to that a cat-burglar attitude like Anne Hathaway from The Dark Knight Rises and her catlike mannerisms from both the Animated Series and the Adam West TV Series; and you got this version of her.

All in all, I'll keep the characters as IC as I can; giving them closer characterizations to Gotham canon as more episodes come out and their characters are expanded upon. Until then, hope you all enjoy this simple story.


	2. The Cat and the Claw: Part 2

** SIRENS**

**Rating: **T+

**Pairing: **Bruce/Selina

**Genre: **Romance, Suspense

**Notes:**

I'm honestly surprised by two things. One, how much positive feedback I got from this; which I thank you all exceedingly for. And, two, that as of yet Bruce Wayne and Selina Kyle have yet to meet in Gotham. Sure, she watches him sleeping (stalker-ish much?), but they haven't spoken a word yet. So, riddle me this: When is a story based on a story based on a story not a story? Simple: Fanfiction.

This is based half on what Gotham is and half on what everyone's expectations of Gotham are.

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Gotham.

* * *

The smell of alcohol accompanied by the loud music, the improperly dressed "dancers" and the presence of news reporters everywhere made the aspect of mourning for the dearly departed Wayne's seem like an afterthought. Sure, if you looked well enough; squinted and turned your head to the side you could see their portrait in the middle of the furthest wall, next to a few vases of fresh roses. That little detail, alongside a few black ribbons here and there were the only indication that a tragedy had taken place a little over a month ago.

Most people didn't even notice; since the allure of partying, dinning and drinking where all much too prominent to be focusing on the dearly departed.

Most people weren't like James Gordon.

"I feel dirty just being here," the young policeman spoke up, taking a sip from his water bottle, which the bartender gave to him with a funny look upon being asked for such. He was still on the job, per say, so he wouldn't drink right now.

"You'll get used to it," was his partner's response. Said partner had apparently taking responsibility for Jim and had taken it upon himself to drink for both of them. Harvey Bullock was currently sipping the last drops on his fourth glass. "But seriously, grab some champagne or something; you look like some poor sap carrying that around."

"This hydrates me; I'm not going to drink."

"Stop being such a smartass and get with the times. This is a party!" as Harvey spoke, they could both feel as the music shifted from a fast beat to a slower pace, signaling that the awards were soon going to be handed out and the announcements regarding the company's future were going to be made. At this Harvey just grabbed another glass. "These rich fellas and their announcements, so paranoid that they need us here. But hey, open bar."

"This is Gotham, after all," as Jim spoke; he saw a familiar sight, which caused him to wave to get noticed. Before Harvey could ask, they both were approached by a young blonde woman. "Barbara, I thought you weren't going to come."

"I wasn't, until I got a call to bring a few of my exhibits here; seems they caught the eye of one of these big shots here," as she finished, she turned to Harvey with a soft smile, waiting.

"Oh, sorry about that. Babs, this is Harvey Bullock, my partner at the force," after the introduction, Harvey removed his fedora and gave a light bow, to which Barbara gave a soft chuckle. "And Harvey, this is my girl, Barbara."

"Fiancée," Barbara quickly corrected, which earned herself a smile from Harvey.

"I am honestly dumbstruck by this my dear," Harvey spoke up, eyeing her before turning to Jim. "This guy here was always so determined to play the hero that I honestly felt he had come out of a comic or something, but seeing just who he's going to marry, maybe little Jimmy here just likes to play the hero to impress his little lady?"

"Harvey, I don't do-"

"Impress me he has," Barbara interrupted, holding Jim by the arm. "Enough to consider marrying him. And if you've been his partner you know how stubborn this guy can be."

"Like a mule."

"Very much so."

"I see you two get along quite well with me as the target."

At this, Barbara gave her future husband a light peck on the lips, smiling at him before turning back to Harvey. "It's a pleasure to meet you Harvey, I do hope Jim doesn't give you too much trouble," as she said this, Harvey just got a funny look on his face, but he didn't say anything. "And I know you two are on duty, but could I borrow him for just a little bit? I promise I'll bring him right back."

"Go right ahead, you don't need to ask me. I know it's a hard choice for Jim to choose between you and me, but I won't make it any harder. You go with her Jim, I understand."

"Thanks for understanding," Jim spoke between laughs, moving alongside Barbara. "I'll come right back."

"You'll know where to find me."

"The bar," Jim concluded.

"The bar," Harvey confirmed.

As the couple walked away from an already alcohol-depraved Bullock, Jim turned to face his cheerier-than-usual bride-to-be. "You seem in high spirits, I'm actually surprised and happy to see you like this."

"I just needed to get out of the house, I felt like I've been crocked up in there for way too long… Besides, if I can do some business with the high executives of Wayne Enterprise it could bode well for both of us."

He smiled as he pulled her hand towards him, giving it a soft kiss. "Sounds good, and what did you want to "borrow" me for?"

"I received I call from Roger, could you take one, maybe two minutes and call him back? It's good news."

Jim just gave her a puzzled look, but before he could answer the music came to a halt, as only a soft melody was left as the previously imperceptible murmurs of the guests now loudly distracted from anything else. Said voices slowly began to lower in tone as a well-dressed middle-aged man made his way onto the "stage" that had been prepared.

"Is that William Earle?" Barbara asked Jim, earning herself a soft shake from his head.

"Him? No, Earle's probably waiting for an introduction to walk in. I've seen Earle before; he's fulsome so say the least," Jim remembered the press conference Earle had made after the Wayne's murder, which both he and Harvey had attended to get a word with the high-ups of Wayne Enterprise. Something about Earle had just rubbed Jim the wrong way, but then again most people in Gotham did. "That," he continued, since Barbara had asked. "I think, is Lucius Fox."

"Oh, another big-shot," at this, Jim only nodded.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," Lucius spoke up, the commanding tone of his voice giving little doubt as to why he was chosen to start the event. "…And welcome one and all to this year's Wayne Enterprise's little get together. While we've been though some hard times, I'll take this opportunity to show my respects to the late Thomas Wayne and Martha Wayne, whose legacy and efforts have allowed us all to be where we are today, and whose dreams of a better way of life for our Gotham City have yet not died… Not on our watch."

As Lucius Fox spoke, Bruce was watching from the back, his ears focused on what the man was saying. "You know Master Bruce," Alfred's voice cut in, causing the young master to turn. "If, when you're a bit older, you feel the need to learn anything about Wayne Enterprise I'd recommend seeking that man out. Lucius Fox is a most truth worthy individual."

"I can tell," Bruce turned his attention back to Fox. "He's dressed in a simple black and white tuxedo, no fancy jewelry or bright colors. Outside you and me Alfred, he's the only one here that seems to be mourning my parents' death. The only other one showing some respect."

"That just might as well be…"

Bruce and Alfred remained behind the scene as Lucius introduced William Earle onto the stage, as the latter took over. Earle took his time speaking about the company, about their plans, a little about the Wayne's and a lot about how they had influenced him on a personal and professional level. He also mentioned a few projects here and there, and assured the audience that even the heightened crime levels of Gotham would not affect their plans, which if done correctly, could create a new era of peace over the crime-infested city. As he spoke all this, neither Bruce nor Jim actually heard any actual realistic plan that could make this a reality. Everything was long-term promises, without any concrete facts.

It wasn't until Bruce heard his name being called that he stopped thinking about that and proceeded to go alongside Alfred onto the stage. As he came into view of all of the guests either sitting at their tables or standing in groups near the walls; he felt a bit pressured by the sheer silence that had befallen the place. Everyone was quiet, and only the background symphony could be heard as each step Bruce took echoed throughout the area. A few more simple steps and he was in the middle, all eyes on him.

His father's words echoed through him. _'Don't be afraid Bruce,' _his father used to say, every time he would feel scared. _'It's okay. It's okay.'_

A deep breath, followed by a straightening of his shoulders and posture.

"Evening everyone," Bruce acknowledged and greeted upon reaching a now lowered microphone, courtesy of William Earle. Alfred stood a few steps behind him, eyeing everyone in the room at once. A few murmurs here and there could be heard as he greeted everyone, mostly at the surprise of seeing him up and about so "soon". "I'm here on behalf of my parents, Mr. Thomas and Martha Wayne; although I presume you all know that."

A soft chuckle echoed throughout the building area, whereupon William Earle spoke through a wireless microphone he had apparently hidden under his coat. "Quite sure we do Bruce. And as I was saying, we here of Wayne Enterprise wish to show you, show everyone just how highly we appreciate everything Thomas Wayne and Martha Wayne did for us all. For this reason above all, Wayne Enterprise wishes to give you our "Best Citizen" award on behalf of the admirable work on Gotham City that both Thomas and Martha Wayne have done as both entrepreneurs and as philanthropists. Just a little detail that we all dearly wished they were here to receive in person; but whose work will never perish and will never ever be forgotten."

As Earle handed Bruce the two awards, the scripted event going down as was predicted, the crowd gave a cheer and applauded the young Wayne. Alfred was observing everything, only giving a small nod of acknowledgement when Bruce eyed him as he took the awards. At this Earle proceeded to stand before the guests, but before he could continue whatever speech he had next in line, Bruce cut in.

"I would like to add to what William Earle just said, if I may," as Bruce eyed Earle, the elder man looked a bit baffled, but nodded nonetheless. Alfred looked less baffled and more as if expecting something like this, but he said nothing. In truth he had wanted to get Bruce out more, but he didn't really feel this was the best way. Regardless, he just looked on. "My parents… didn't believe in this city."

Earle's expression took a sudden shift that he resembled a caricature, as everyone in the room eyed each other upon that statement. Most people went silent, aside from someone giving a soft laugh from out back which Jim could swear was Harvey.

The only other person who seemed more bemused at the comment rather than dumbfounded was a certain young girl who was sitting on a chair near one of the walls, legs crossed and cat-like eyes narrowed at Bruce's direction. She just found him funny-looking standing there all important-like when he was a brat like all the rest.

"Bruce," William Earle cut in, speaking away from the microphones, to the boy's ear. "That really goes against-"

But Bruce motioned to him not to stop him, before continuing. "Sorry, that sounded wrong. But I guess I meant to say it like that. My parents didn't believe in the city, because a city can't be good or bad. A city is what we make it. My parents believed, until their last breath, in the people in this city. They did everything they did, because they understood that if you help those less fortunate, those helped will in turn help others in need, creating a chain of goodwill that keeps on giving. They believed in all of you."

Reactions were mixed. Some smiled, a few genuinely and others in mere politeness. Others were a bit taken back; somewhere amused by his words but though him just oversimplifying or exaggerating; while a few deemed him "cute".

"Now that's-"

"In fact, my father's last words," Bruce interrupted Earle. "Were not hatred or fear against his killer, but merely stating to him that "we're cooperating", believing deep down that that would-be robber would just take the money and leave his family unharmed. Believing in the better nature of even the worst among us…" he stopped, his voice wavering a bit. "…And I still believe in people like that. That may parents, as well deserving as they are for this, are not the only ones that do. I too believe in the people of Gotham."

A massive round of applause followed his speech, with Jim and Barbara giving the young boy a few cheers for added appeal. Even Harvey could be heard cheering, while Earle reluctantly joined in the applauding. Alfred gave the boy a warm smile and placed his hands upon his shoulders, as Bruce grabbed one of Alfred's hands. With Earle's center of attention taken from him, he was forced to give a brief comment on Bruce's statements; followed by bringing the music back on full swing.

"Thanks Alfred."

"Nonsense Master Wayne, that was a beautiful speech you made," Alfred spoke as he brushed Bruce's hair slightly with his fingers. "Most notably the fact that not once did you even peek at the index card you went outside to find."

"Ah… I memorized it," Bruce smiled at his own comment, while Alfred just raised an eyebrow and stared.

"Ingenious. So… shall we go now?"

"Just a few more minutes Alfred, there's someone I should at least greet," Bruce signaled to Jim as he spoke, while Alfred nodded.

Both Jim and Barbara smiled as Bruce and Alfred approached them, with Jim being quick to speak. "That was quite the speech there Bruce."

"Meant every word," the young boy greeted, turning to Barbara. "Bruce Wayne."

As Bruce extended his hand, Barbara took it and gave a soft shake. She was taken aback when the young boy proceeded to place her hand upon his lips and give it a soft kiss. "You must be the future Mrs. Gordon. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"…Charmed, honestly so," Barbara failed to hold back her wide smile, half surprised by his actions, half wanting to hug him for being so cute. "And it's very good to meet you Bruce; nice to see someone is still looking out for Gotham. Makes me feel safer letting Jim here go out there."

Bruce looked on as James shook Alfred's hand, before he proceeded to introduce him to Barbara and vice versa. As the four spoke, Bruce felt someone eyeing him, which shouldn't really surprise him. The last living Wayne at a Wayne Enterprise's get-together was certainly an attention-grabber, but this feeling felt different. It took him a bit until his eyes met with another pair of eyes which he instantly recognized. At this, he was quick to move. "Excuse me, I'll be back briefly."

"Master Wayne," Alfred's strict tone stopped him. "Last time you said so, you went outside, be best if you stayed close, somewhere I can see you lad."

If Jim or Barbara thought of something, they kept it to themselves, but Bruce merely nodded to Alfred. "Don't worry, just saw a friend. I'm asking her for a dance."

With this he left the three of them, with Barbara's eyes widening as she turned towards her fiancé. "How old is that boy?"

"Old enough it seems," Jim looked at Bruce as he moved towards where everyone else as at. "It's good to know he has a few friends he can enjoy himself with, didn't know he had any young ladies around here."

"Frankly, neither did I," Alfred mentioned, causing Jim to look surprised.

"You don't know his friends?"

"I know a few, the few he has. Milady Julie and Milady Rachel are young girls he has been rather closed to, but Rachel moved away about a year or so ago, and I don't think Julie Madison is here…"

"Boys will be boys, it's nothing wrong," Barbara spoke to them, before turning to Alfred. "But I'd be on the look-out for that one. He's a real charmer."

-0-

"Dance with me."

It wasn't a question, despite the fact that he had extended his hand to her and was waiting for her to respond. At this she eyed him, wondering whether or not it was time for her to escape these "party" or if she should stick around and humor him. Seeing his expression, he was composed and not really nervous, she sighed and took his hand. It was the least she could do for him not ratting her out to his butler. In the streets, loyalty was hard to find.

"Didn't take you for a dancer."

"All of us rich guys are, we pay for dancing classes."

"Must be nice, throwing away money for something so… unimportant," as she spoke, Bruce eyed her, careful not to linger too much lest he risk losing his eyes. But this was the same girl that had been in his limousine, wearing a type of black leather jacket and pants attire. That couldn't be the same girl he was dancing with now, wearing a black glimmering dress which seemed to sparkle as she moved; coupled with a pair of gold earrings with ruby red tips. She even had light make-up on, which she didn't have before.

"You're quick to change," he spoke up, eyes back against hers. "If I wager that what you're wearing isn't yours, what do I win?"

"What are you implying?" her tone easily rivaled any of the high society women at the event. "That I snuck in and savagely beat up a drunken bimbo for her dress and jewelry? Please…"

It was the first time Bruce felt he needed an adult. She quickly chuckled at that, and proceeded to begin to dance with him. Much to his surprise, she was a very good dancer. Her left arm went around his neck, while she interlocked fingers with him with her right hand. He placed his other arm against her waist, and the begun their ballad.

Both moving in unison, dancing around the room as everyone danced and moved about. They quickly got the attention from a few people, some of which even took a few not-so-subtle pictures of the two. As they moved across the floor, she kept her face adorned with a bright smile. So happy, so practiced. Bruce knew that all too well.

"Why are you here?"

A shift of posture, their hands changed positions, left becoming right and vice versa.

"Enjoying the sights, that was quite a speech you gave there. You really are a sheltered little boy…"

They turned again, twirling and moving as the music increased its flow.

"So you're a narcissist I presume. One who only sees the dark night instead of the incoming dawn?"

They separated, only joined by three interlocked fingers.

"Big words. Where'd you read them? I am realistic, if you must know. You can't really know what Gotham is like from your castle."

They got together again, his arm tugging her a bit closer this time.

"I've seen darkness. If you know anything about me, you can figure out what it was."

He gave her a twirl, spinning her around like he saw his father do to his mother many times before.

"And I live in it daily. That little glimpse you saw, it's my life. I'm smart enough to know there is no future or hope for this place; not for people like me."

Another pull; and they're face to face.

"…There's always hope. I can help, Cat, was it?"

"Yeah," she separated herself from him, before he held her by the arm.

"At least tell me your real name."

"Cat is a real name," she raised her tone a bit, sending out brief but impacting message of "our dance just ended and if you don't let me go you'll be sorry" or something similar to it.

"So is Doug, but I don't buy that it's your real name. You act like a cat, for sure, but it would be too much of a coincidence to be your actual name," he still held unto her, but lessened his grip. She at least took the gesture in good will since she had yet to smack him.

"Cat's all you'll get. Now, if you don't mind…"

He let her go.

"…Thank you," she finished.

"But don't go," she eyed him as he practically pleaded. He heard himself as well, so he straightened a bit and tried again. "And by that I mean don't just run away, like I feel you're going to. Sit down with me for a minute."

She was laughing after he finished. "Listen kid, if you're starting to crush on me, let me tell you you are so barking up the wrong tree in ways you have no-"

"I wouldn't be so sure," he spoke up as he took a seat on a nearby table, while motioning her to take a seat next to him. At this, she felt a surge of boiling pressure build up inside her. He was smiling, so sure that she would do as told that he had already laid himself back. The nerve this kid had, and he looked even younger than her.

"Fine, I'll humor you," she began to hate herself for falling into that trick, but he was an interesting boy. Besides, she still had time. "So what do you want to talk about?"

As she took her seat, Bruce eyed her before speaking. "Why do you steal?"

She seemed taken aback.

"What a moronic question."

"Care to explain, I'm not discriminating against you for it, I just want to know why you do it?" as he explained, she couldn't tell if he was serious or not. He sounded serious, he looked serious, but who could even bother to ask someone why they do the illegal things they do when they are pretty self-explicatory.

"To live, why else?"

"To live? As in, you steal what you need in order to survive?"

"That's what I said."

"So, that dress, you needed it to survive?" as he spoke, she felt herself wanting to cut his eyes off and shove them down his throat.

"I needed it to get in here," as she answered him, he held back a smile. It was the first time he could make her fluster a bit, and he liked doing so.

"Did you need to be here? Would you have died if you didn't get in here?"

"I'm starting to hate you."

"So… you like me?" her expression was priceless to him, as she let out a silent laugh, all visible with her expression, as she shifted her gaze across the room before returning it back to him. As this, he allowed himself to smile.

She crossed her arms, pulling herself back as she rested her back against the chair, legs equally crossed. "Why the sudden interest in me?"

"I just want to know more about the people in Gotham that feel the need to break the law, just to know about what goes through their heads, if, if the justify it or not, stuff like that. I don't want to sound mean or anything, so it's hard to explain," he answered honestly, ignoring the fact that she had changed the subject.

"You want to study the criminal mind, is it?"

"You could say it like that."

"Word of advice," she spoke, as she edged closer to him. He did the same, leaving them both mere inches from each other. "Don't."

"W-What? I'm not going to become a criminal."

"And that's why. You're not one of us; you'll never be like us. A rich kid like you, paying for dancing instructions, having a butler to iron your underwear-"

"Underwear doesn't need ironing."

"And you even know that, yeah, that'll get you far in life," she stood up, as he stopped himself from doing the same. Anymore pestering on his part and he'll seem like an obsessed stalker. Not that he had invited her in or anything, since she never answered him as to why she was at the party. For all he knew, she had gotten in here to steal.

"I just thought that if I knew a little bit about how thieves think-"

She wasn't listening, she was walking away. He threw himself back against the chair, covering his eyes with his hands. "…maybe I'd be able to find that bastard."

He wasn't thinking clearly, he should be able to know that. What had he even been expecting her to say? How could she help him? If he ever wanted to get the actual man responsible for his parent's murder, he would have to find another way. And as hard as it was, Jim Gordon was probably his best bet. Not some thief who called herself "Cat".

As he rubbed his eyes and looked at the other guests, his sight was covered by a pair of familiar eyes.

"I thought you left!" he spoke, startled.

"You actually want to find the guy?" Cat asked, a few inches from him. She had thrown him off-balance thanks to her sudden return, which did not bode well with him.

"Of course, he can't get away with it. I want to confront him."

"You want revenge?"

"Justice."

"Big words," she moved around him, her hands going from his shoulder, across his back onto the other shoulder, causing him to stiffen. "Meet me at that place where that bastard shot your folks, which they are now dubbing "Crime Alley" or something. Be there at around three-forty-five in the morning; and I'll show you a little about how the other ninety-nine percent lives."

As she moved, she lifted her hand from his shoulder and pinched his cheek, nudging it a bit before walking away, leaving a stunned Bruce behind. He processed what she had said, what it meant. Alfred would never in a hundred years allow him to go out alone at night, much less to that spot, much even less to meet up with such a shady girl. The only other option was to sneak out, walk all the way from the mansion to that alley, meet up with her, and then go back before morning came and Alfred noticed.

He couldn't possibly do it; no matter how much he wanted to.

So Bruce stood up, before his eyes widened as he motioned around, looking at himself, then at the table, and lastly at the floor. All he could see was some people still dancing; a few others were drinking; and Alfred walking towards him. Neither of those things worried him at the moment…

…as he no longer had his phone or wallet.

* * *

The Author Rants About:

Bruce Wayne

This version of him to be exact. While he is based as In-Character as I can manage to the Gotham version of Bruce Wayne, the kid hasn't actually appeared too much. And more than that, he really hasn't interacted with anyone outside of Alfred or Gordon. We hardly even saw him interact with his parents, only a few words about the movie they were seeing (probably "The Mark of Zorro", in my story it will be a remake of the original, not Antonio Bandera), and nothing else. I know they're just holding him back, since I adore the show even if it has had a few weak offerings, but it does make it a bit hard to write about. Regardless, David Mazouz is a brilliant actor, and I hope they give him more to do. Hell, I'd be happy to see him in a flashback sequence in BvS, but that's just me dreaming.

Anyways, this version of the character is based on Mazouz's portrayal, mixed in with Batman Begins' version of Bruce. He's a young boy who lost so much in such a sudden way, and he wants to know more about the criminal underworld and how it works. He's interest in Selina is half what he says (she's a thief who he can at least relate to) and half _another_ interest (because he is Batman and she is Catwoman). How will this all turn out, more to come next chapter!

* * *

The Author Responds To:

1\. East Coast Captain: Thanks, and so do I. The reason I made this is because I believe they will take a different route to the baby-bat/baby-cat relationship than I will, hence the fic. But surely, Gotham did not cast these two, at the same time mind you, without having the plans to use them. Heck, the video they put up: "The Bat, The Cat and Gordon" seems to imply this very thing… With Gordon as a third wheel.

2\. Solvdrage: Thank you, and I do hope I have not disappointed you.

3\. Guest (#1): Thanks a lot, and I do plan to write more. A lot more. This is going to be a long story. Hopefully!

4\. darthmatthew: I'm so glad you did. Hope you enjoy this one too.

5\. TiffanyRance: I'm happy you did!

6\. IvyMoore: Thank you for the compliments. And I do intend to write more. Way more.

7\. non guest: Love you for saying so.

8\. Guest (#2): Thanks, hope you like the update.

9\. LisMaknae: When it comes to writing their interactions, it just writes itself. When it's just Bruce or Alfred or Jim, I'm like pausing every few minutes. When both the Bat and the Cat are interacting, my hands won't stop typing!

10\. Guest (#3): Thank you, and I will continue this for quite a bit.

11\. Mattia18: Hopefully I have not failed your expectations, since now there's an actual plot to move forwards to.

12\. Mireilles3: Thanks! Their first meeting was based on all these comics that Batman would return to the Batmobile and (surprise!) Catwoman was inside waiting for him. I just thought it be funny and cute. And hopefully I'll be able to keep their characterizations as IC as possible.

13\. GeekGirl330: And I hope you'll keep reading. Thank you so much for the kind words. Means a lot.

14\. adam anellaer: Well, you've found at least one! And I know Gotham has yet to get the following it deserves, but at least it's getting noticed. I made this fic with the intention to be able to satisfy that little craving I myself had of seeing a much younger Bruce and Selina interacting, before the capes, cowls or whips (especially the whips); where the two could actually help shape each other into what they are set to become. And believe me, in Gotham, it will be very hard for them not to know more about each other when the inevitable happens. This version of them is the closest origins I've ever seen! So, as genuine as I can make my writing seem, thanks for the support.

15\. AdolescentPrimordial: Glad you do. And I'm not sure how Alfred would feel about Bruce bringing home a "stray", if you will. Not that that would discourage Bruce in the slightest, so…


	3. When In Rome

**Rating:** T+

**Pairing:** Bruce/Selina

**Genre:** Romance, Suspense

**Notes:**

So sorry for the tardiness of this update, given the fact that half of it was written before episode nine "Harvey Dent" even aired I had hoped to post it a lot sooner. Unfortunately, my old laptop died; and a new one was needed.

But on to the good news, it's Christmas! So happy holidays to everyone, regardless of what you celebrate, just enjoy yourselves and be safe.

As for this chapter, I do consider this the "true" start of the story (plot); with the last two chapters being more of a prolonged prologue. Here, I'll start to move the story of the orphaned millionaire with a heavy interest in the criminal mind trying to understand his not-obsession with a street kid turned expert thief who also seems to have taken an interest in him. Given that this is Gotham, there are far more players involved in this than either realize, but that's for later.

Anyways, thank you all for the support, and for the very (and I mean VERY) kind and constructive reviews. As one fan to others; I'm glad we can all enjoy this and I hope to continue entertaining you with much more (in much quicker updates, hopefully). Read on!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Gotham.

* * *

When Alfred retired for the night, Bruce felt the older man suspected something was amiss. Alfred didn't voice it, not on the ride home, not during supper and not during their nightly ritual before bed. They spoke about the party, about Bruce's parents and about his dance partner; whom Alfred inquired about a bit too much, but of whom Bruce evaded giving much away. As Alfred went to sleep, he lectured Bruce yet again about spending so much time in the study ("I know it may come to you as a surprise, but we do have more rooms in this mansion, I'll have you know") to which Bruce just smile and nodded. Once his legal guardian went away, Bruce stopped pretending to be getting ready for bed.

He waited.

Waited until he heard Alfred shut his door and until the lights in his room were turned off. He waited even further after that, hoping the day had tired the butler out so much that he would not shake or stir until dawn broke. Alfred would normally clock in 7 hours of sleep on an average, and given that they had gone to bed later than usual today (the clock read: 1:44 am at the moment Alfred shut the door); Bruce hoped that he would stay asleep at least until 6 when he usually got up to greet the first shift of workers and to prepare breakfast. It wasn't much, but it was his only window of opportunity.

Cat's voice echoed in his mind.

"_Be there at around three-forty-five in the morning; and I'll show you a little about how the other ninety-nine percent lives."_

The clock currently displayed that it was 2:00 in the morning; which was good given that it should take him over an hour to reach "Crime Alley" on foot.

-0-

The night was cold, that much was certain. She considered herself used to the hardships of living out on the streets, of sleeping in empty and at the same time crowded buildings with broken windows that did not keep the cold air out. She was used to sleeping more on the day than during the night as well, since during the night it was easier to _earn_ a living as she did and during the day you could actually get some sleep without having to keep one eye open. Well, _some_ sleep.

So, taking all that into consideration, she could even begin to describe how stupid she felt at being sitting on a fire escape and nearly three-thirty in the morning, actually waiting for a pampered rich boy to appear. She knew better than that. Once the little runt found out she took his wallet, phone, watch and gum (form his person) as well as about two dollars and forty cents in pocket change (from his limousine) he was going to flip out, cry for his doorman (or was it butler?), probably call the cops and have them search for her. And he would get nowhere.

Unless of course he actually believed her and he told them she would be here, which they in turn (given that he was rich, so even the corrupted would move for that reason alone) would find her. Why? Because she was actually where she had told him she would be at! It was these moments that she honestly surprised herself on how long she had lasted on these streets.

Getting up, she scoffed at her own thoughts, and begun to climb down. She had better try and make at least $125 before five in the morning or she would be short for the day.

"You're actually here…"

She froze.

His voice was broken. He sounded out of air, tired and surprised at the same time. He seemed surprise she was there; a credible argument as she was just as surprised at seeing him here. "Y-You actually came?"

"You sort-of took my phone with you, and my wallet. I think my watch too."

"I already ate the gum…"

"…I had gum?"

He was still out of breath, and she wouldn't be surprised if he fainted dead away at any given moment. He was way too skinny and way too pale to actually indicate he exercised at all. "Wait," she spoke, studying him. "You didn't walk all the way here, right? From your house?"

"Yeah, check your-my watch," he paused for breath. "I took one hour and forty minutes to get here," and again. "It's three-forty-five right now, right?"

"Actually…" she eyed the watch, and it indeed was three-forty-five. "You're a bit late, it's three-fifty."

"Damn," he dropped onto the floor on his bottom, taking a seat in the pavement. She had been surprised to hear the kid swearing, even with such a docile word compared to Gotham's youth's more e_xpressive _vocabulary. "I counted each minute, must have made a mistake…"

"You're a weirdo," she spoke as she pointed at him, slowly walking towards him. As she did, she assessed the situation. No one was there with him. He was alone, dead tired, and on time to their "meeting" as she had indicated. "Kid, you really have issues, huh?"

"Bruce."

"Wha-?"

"You know my name's Bruce, Cat," he looked up to her as he spoke, giving out a weary smile. For the first time in her life, she both liked and hated how someone spoke her nickname. It sounded so _off _to her coming from his lips. She decided it was best to ignore that feeling.

"So, _Bruce_…" now saying his name sounded off. "You actually want to learn about the, how did you say it, study those in Gotham who feel the need to break the law?"

"Yes, the criminal mind. You said you could show me a bit about how it's like for your side."

She exploded in laughter. His face was dumbstruck, but he didn't voice his confusion. He waited until she finished laughing, which took her a bit. She laughed, tried to stop, apologized, and then laughed again. It was, at the very least, the happiest he'd ever seen her, but he didn't practically like or understand her source of newfound joy.

"S-Sorry, it's just," she apologized again, in between laughs. "It's just that I can just picture this morning's Gotham Gazette. Headline: Rich boy found beaten to death behind a dumpster."

"I hope that's not the first lesson," since it did not sound funny to him.

She merely shook her head, the laughter finally culminating. "Nah, I… I can work something out. Okay, let's entertain this little idea of yours. Bruce Wayne, the boy who can understand any criminal!"

"Now you're just mocking me."

"No shit."

He seemed a bit surprised by her language, to which she just smiled. "Get used to that and more if you really want to do this, oh, and catch!"

She barely gave him time to follow her line of conversation before throwing his watch at him. He caught it, barely, and proceeded to look at the time. In only two minutes it would be four. He looked back at her, expectantly, but she shook her head again. "Nope, you're not getting anything else back until you earn them back."

"But they're mine!"

"First rule of the streets. Nothing is yours, you can take anything from anybody, and anybody can take anything from you. If you want this," she took out his wallet. "And this," she took out his phone. "…Back you're going to have to buy them from me. I'll be nice, $50 apiece, deal?"

"Fifty!" his shout caused her to giggle a bit, he seemed almost, almost cute in his disbelieving state.

"Yeah, a five followed by a cero. Now, listen up," she ignored his overly expressive gaze nearly turned into a glare. "You have, let's say, forty minutes to round up one-hundred dollars and bring them back here. If you don't, you ain't getting these back."

"Aren't."

"What?"

"Ain't isn't a word. It's aren't."

"I ain't giving a shit. Now go!"

He wanted to argue, to be against what she was "teaching" him, but he really couldn't. He had asked for this. To understand them, to be amongst them. Now he had the chance, and part of him wanted to know what it was like. Furthermore, she gave him a time limit. Forty minutes. Not that it mattered, since he had to be back home before six and given the amount of time it took him to get to Crime Alley he had better hurry.

-0-

Five minutes had passed, until he reached a moderately, for this hour at least, crowded area. A few people were out drinking, another group was busy chatting in a corner smoking something that did not look like cigarettes; and some very poorly dressed women were trying to strike conversation with the men around. It then hit him as hard as that time he fell into the well back at the mansion. He had no idea what to do.

Get $100 in forty, slash that, thirty-five minutes. How?

He knew she meant stealing, but how could he? How do you steal? He couldn't even begin to imagine how to do it. He has seen shows that both started thieves or shows about cops catching thieves, but actually crime was different. His first thought was to steal from the pub which those men were drinking in. But that would never work, there were too many guys (drunk or not) there and he would stick out like crazy between them. They'd see his intentions easily.

He then thought about stealing like Cat did. Stealing a purse or a wallet. But how did she do it? He never felt her hand, and he had had his wallet tucked in his side pocket, not the rear. She placed her hands inside both of his pockets (left for the wallet; right for the phone and gum) without him noticing and even took his watch (his WRIST watch) away without him noticing while they danced? He never even felt her hands leave his shoulder, much less rob him like she did.

He then noticed he had wasted three more minutes wondering about Cat and her little claws. Also, he saw a young woman approaching him. He involuntary stiffened.

"Hey," she spoke, passing her hand through his head. She smelt of booze and worse, and it made him uncomfortable just being near her. "Are you one of Stan's boys?" she asked, eyeing him. His mind was trying to register a response. "A bit on the young side, but I don't think they'll mind."

"Actually," he muttered, clearing his throat. He figured something at least. In the streets the connections you had made you who you are; so maybe he could cheat. "I'm here on Cat's behalf. We're looking for, erm, a gig. You know?"

"You're with Cat?"

"Yeah," he felt her tone shift, so the girl had street cred.

"He Bobbi," she turned to one of the men at the pub, a rather large one. "This brat knows were that bitch Kyle is at."

That did not sound good. Bruce forgot anything else he had wanted to learn from the criminal mind or anything like that. All that came to his mind was Alfred's stories about the war. And how effective a kick to the groin could be, regardless of gender.

He heard he curse as the kick connected, and as her grip on him loosened, he ran. He forgot about his fatigue, about how his feet ached, and he ran. He didn't even know where he ran too. Once he could no longer hear the woman's screams or the man's (or men's, he didn't bother to look) cursing at him he stopped, checked his surroundings, ran a bit more, then came to a halt.

The watch read 4:17.

Three more minutes passed until he was near other people "enjoying" Gotham's night life. They looked no better than the once before. This time, however, he learned from his mistakes. First, don't mention Cat. Or better yet, don't talk. Two, don't stand around like an idiot where everyone can see you clearly. Hide, find a target, then go out and try the theft. So he did just that.

He hid in an alley, scanning everyone.

Out of everyone in the area, which were a bit more than that last place, he found a potential victim. As he did, he felt a sting in his chest. The words "potential victim" did not sound good in his mind, especially since it was him who would turn the person into a victim. He swallowed hard, he had already thought it through; he couldn't backtrack now. So he moved.

He had it planned clearly in his mind.

Walk straight to the guy who was talking on his phone, standing a bit away from the group drinking and laughing which he seemed to have been with not three minutes ago. He was holding his phone with one hand, the other covering his mouth and the phone's receiver, likely to dull out the ambient noise. That left him defenseless; since his "buddies" were not looking in his direction, and furthermore, Bruce could see his wallet sticking out from his back pocket. Likely, the man had paid the last round of drinks, and had hastily put it away when his phone began to ring. Bruce swallowed hard.

And ran.

He knew he was not skilled enough to pull the wallet out without being noticed; much less caught as soon as he did. He could not be silent, but he could be fast.

As soon as Bruce was within arm's reach of the man, he pulled at the wallet. And he got it, along with the man's attention. "Hey, thief! Stop! Someone stop that kid!"

But he was too drunk to react on time, so Bruce had the advantage. He ran as fast as he could, figuring it could take him a few more turns until he lost him.

But then he came face to face with Jim Gordon.

Or rather, he saw Gordon coming out of a nearby store carrying some groceries. Bruce could not curse his luck anymore that he was currently since he foresaw what would happen.

"Stop that little thief!"

Which was exactly what happened.

Upon the robbed man's plea, Gordon sprang into action. He didn't ask any questions, just placed his groceries on the ground, told the man to "Wait here" and began to chase after Bruce. Bruce was hoping Gordon had not seen his face, hoping that the darkness would give him enough cover. But that didn't really matter.

A few drunks he could outrun.

Jim Gordon he couldn't.

So he improvised, Bruce threw himself under a parked truck, maneuvering in between the large wheels to have enough room to squeeze himself out of Gordon's reach. In a few second, Gordon's feet were visible from Bruce's point of view.

"Kid, you don't have to do this," it was a voice Bruce knew well. Calm, yet strict. He was offering Bruce a chance. To give himself up and do the right thing. Thankfully it meant Gordon hadn't recognized him. "Just come out, give me the wallet, and I promise you we can talk. I'm not just going to send you to juvie or something like that. I promise, but I need you to cooperate with me."

And under any other circumstance, he would agree wholeheartedly with Gordon. He was right, he was trustworthy. He would try to convince him, to show him the error of his ways, or he would if he weren't Bruce Wayne.

If he saw Bruce, he would shout, take him to Alfred, put this as an effect of Post Traumatic Disorder; then force Alfred to take him to therapy despite his protests. And he was beginning to think it could all be true.

But, he had to risk it.

"I-I can't!" he disguised his voice as best he could. It was the voice he used for his Fray Felipe action figure when he used to play with his dad. "I need this, o-or my dad will beat me to death!"

He felt Jim take a breath, wary but worried. He also felt himself stammer a bit, at the very idea of saying "dad" under such a horrible scenario. He knew it wasn't even his dad he was referring to, but it still felt wrong. "Listen kid, let me help. I've known a few kids out there with parents like that. And I know you feel that I'm lying and I can't help you, but just hear me out. There was this kid, who like you, had a father who-"

Now was his chance.

He crawled out of the truck as fast as he could, and ran towards a nearby alley. As expected, Gordon noticed. Gordon sprang after him, and at that moment, Bruce used his last trick at his disposal. He flung the wallet towards Gordon, who in reflex actually caught the thing, but took just enough time and lost just enough momentum to allow Bruce to speed like the devil and disappear from sight.

Gordon went back towards the man, not too surprised to see that his groceries where no longer there. "Where's my bags?"

"Who knows."

As Jim eyed him, he gave the man back his wallet. The man opened it, then turned to Gordon. "The hell? My money and license is gone. Where are they?"

"Who knows."

-0-

"What took you?"

Cat's sarcastic tone irked him even more now than it had before, but something told him he had to get used to it. She was looking at him, eyeing him from top to bottom, apparently wanting to ask him why he was covered with so much filth. "Circumstances," he answered the unasked question. "By the way, there are some people that hate you."

"Quite a few, actually," she said it so matter-of-factly that he could help but believe she had expected something like what happened to actually happen. "By the way," she continued. "Who's Julie Madison?"

He cocked an eyebrow. "Julie? A friend. How do you-?"

"Oh, she called."

"What?"

"A friend, huh? Right… A friend does not call a boy at four-thirty to just chat. Plus, she sounded pretty interested in learning who I was."

"You answered my phone."

"Oh, yeah. It was ringing."

"But it has a code, they said it could be answered without the code."

"Huh? No one told me it was uncrackable," she smirked, proudly. He felt angrier. "So, is she your girlfriend?"

"No, no. She's a friend."

"Well, she has the hots for you; thought you might like to know that, since you seem to be dumb with girls," she sat down, on a nearby set of steps. He felt like fainting, but he was too mad to do so. "Anyways, do you have the money?"

He paused, breathing in for a moment. He proceeded to take out a few bills from his pocket. "Here's fifty-five dollars, enough for the wallet at least."

"Wallet? What about the phone."

"Keep it. Chat with Julie if you want. Just give me the wallet."

"…No."

"What?"

"I said no, that wasn't the deal," she stood up, and clenched his fists.

"The deal was fifty a piece! I'm giving you fifty-five for one piece!" as he spoke he saw that her smirk was every present. And he realized what it meant. She never meant to honor any deal. This would be lesson two. Never trust a thief. "Cat," his voice was lower. "Please, don't go back on that. Just the wallet, it was my father's, please."

Now he was scared, scared that he wouldn't get it back. She just eyed him. Then she moved towards him, before placing the wallet within arm's reach of him. As he moved to grab it she pulled it back. "Hey now, fifty-five…"

He nodded. As he gave her the cash, which she quickly counted, she gave him the wallet. Everything was there… except for his money. He didn't even voice it, since he had been expecting it anyways. As he turned back to her, she was smiling again. And it was then he noticed she had two new earrings she had not had on when he had met up with her earlier that morning. "So," Cat's voice echoed through the dark alley. "You wanna go home?"

"Yeah…" his voice sounded weak, broken even. She sighed, turning her back to him.

"Whatever kid, go home. I told you this wasn't something you could do. I'm surprised you didn't come back with-"

"I didn't mean it like that," he interrupted her. She stopped as he did. "If I'm not home by six," he continued. "…Alfred's going to handcuff me to bed every night until I'm eighteen. He won't agree with this, but I want to do this. I want to learn everything there is to learn about you," her eyes widened as he spoke, to which he added a "about people like you…".

"…And what exactly did you learn?"

"The thrill."

Her hug took him by surprise, since he never expected it nor was he awake enough to even realize she was hugging him until she had let go of him. "Oh my, the sheltered little boy actually has something in him. That's a good surprise. Okay, so let's set up another date, shall we?"

He just nodded, as she spoke. She told him that she would call him (at the mansion, using his phone), that she would tell him where to meet next and that he should continue to pay the phone bills if he wanted her to keep in contact with him. He nodded to everything.

"…And lastly, you need a nickname."

"Pardon?"

"Lose the fancy vocabulary. You hear something you don't understand, you say "what the hell did you say?" or something like it. And," she was pointing her index finger at him, like if he were an actual student. "What I mean is I can't call you Bruce or kid all the time. A rich orphan like you can't be seen around here, and calling you kid is just asking to get your ass whooped, so…" she paused, thinking. "Let's name you like me, after an animal."

"An animal, seriously? You haven't even told me your real name."

"Earn my name, for now, it's Cat. Now, let's think of an animal for you, one that suits you… maybe with wings…"

He was starting to wonder if she was ever going to tell him her name. "I think we're both well past the age of pretending to be animals, Cat…"

"Yeah, because you're so manly…"

He was going to argue, but he was too tired to even try. Then she clasped her hands together, producing a clapping sound. "Got it!" she announced, as he stared. "From now on, you'll be Cock Robin."

"…I don't think that's age appropriate."

"Why not, it's from a story, or poem, or something like that. Still an animal."

"Yes, a dead one. And it sounds, wrong, can't I be a wolf, or a shark, or a b-"

"You're Cock Robin, earn yourself a cooler nickname if you want," she turned and jumped, from the steps onto the fire escape and upwards. "You better get moving back home," her voice could be heard as she disappeared from sight. "Or else your butler will give you a spanking!"

He looked at the clock.

4:51

And he ran again.

-0-

By the time he reached Wayne Manor, the first few streaks of light were beginning to shine through, and the chill of the night was beginning to subside. He climbed through the window, the same way he came down, and took out the makeshift pillow as a distraction he had set up just in case. He managed to reach the mansion at six-o-seven, having cut short him best time by a bit. Stripping himself to his underwear, Bruce threw himself onto bed, before Alfred came inside.

"Morning Master Bruce," the butler spoke, as Bruce inwardly screamed, cried and laughed at the same time. "Apologies for having almost overslept, but duty calls. I've prepared your morning shower, so best to hop in. You are not going to be absent today as well, understood."

He had forgotten about school. Without any strength or willpower, Bruce just cocked his head towards Alfred's direction. "…Coming."

-0-

For David Thompson surprises weren't many. As a janitor for one of the worst places in Gotham, he had become used to bad luck

But today came the biggest of surprises. The biggest surprise was not his wife's arguments or his buddies teasing the hell out of him, since he had been too drunk to register it all properly. The biggest surprise came the day after the event, in the late afternoon (at around 4:30 to 5:00) when he went out to check his mail and stepped on an envelope on the floor. But that wasn't the biggest surprise.

The surprise was finding his license and one-hundred-and-ten dollars inside, alongside a small note:

"_Sorry for any inconveniences."_

* * *

The Author Rants About:

Selina Kyle

This version of her to be exact. Selina Kyle, the Cat, or Catwoman (whatever she wants to call herself) is my absolute favorite Batman character. Heck, she's probably my third favorite comic book character of them all (second place belongs to Aquaman; while my fave will always be the big blue). In here, she's just a kid (very street savvy, but still a kid) who is mostly in over her head. But if it's one thing you learn in the streets of Gotham, it's to survive. Selina Kyle is a survivor, and she has been one so long because she doesn't ever form attachments… So why does this rich little kid keep circling her mind?

Here, Cat is a mix between her comic persona (mostly her earlier appearances mixed with the Hush storylines, which I adore), the Tim Burton film (with a little of Rises in there) and of course her flirty nature from the Adam West show (heck, she alone makes the show watchable… well, her and the Riddler…), so yeah, she's a pretty big mix. But, as I write this, I find that Camren's Selina is a pretty unique take on her own. She's smart, funny ("diving board" comment made me laugh a lot), so I hope I can take her style and add more of it here. So what will happen? What does Selina get out of all of this? Find out, next time!

* * *

The Author Responds To:

**1.** nya mayaha nya: Thanks, and I am taking this places, erm, or something. One of the reasons why Selina is my favorite character in all the Batman mythos (a close second being Dick Grayson) is because of her complexity. She can be a villain, or a heroine. She can outsmart Batman, hold her own against the worst Gotham has to offer; yet never goes beyond the line. Ever since her first appearance, she's always been someone Bruce thinks he can save. Whether she wants to be or not is another matter…

**2.** TiffanyRance: Would you expect anything less?

**3.** darthmatthew: I'm glad you did! And, yeah, many people predicted Selina staying with Bruce, however short-lived it was. Wished she had stayed there longer…

**4.** Guest (#1): Thank you! And steal she did. Between a few expensive objects (which she returned) and a kiss (is it stealing when he doesn't mind?); she is a thief all right!

**5.** Guest (#2): I'm glad you think so and here is (was?) the update! The next one will be quicker, promise!

**6.** LisMaknae: Their interactions are pretty much the foundation of this story. Now that Bruce wants to learn more of her "world", they will be interacting quite a lot.

**7.** Solvdrage: Glad you are. And yeah, they'll be plenty of nods to his future as a crime-fighter here. I'll try to make them not as in-your-face as early Gotham episodes did, thou.

**8.** Guest (#3): You are also awesome my friend! Everything is awesome! So, thanks for that. That's quite the high praise, which I'm so grateful for. I've tried my hardest to keep my story like how I envision it while keeping both Bruce and Selina as close to Gotham's canon as I can. It's hard, since sometimes I just want to write something like ("Who do you think you are?" "I'm Batman"), but that's for much, much later.

**9.** alexisg200: Thanks! Their interactions are based on 75+ years of material, so it should seem believable. But thanks anyway for the praise my friend.

**10.** cokeerr: And here was more, with even more to come!

**11.** Flaw In The Logical Plantetoid: Thank you for the praise, I hope to never disappoint you!

**12.** Araytigre: The big deal to me with this story is just how much I adore the Bat/Cat pairing and the Batman stories in general. I wanted to just do my dream story come true and share it with other fans so they can enjoy. And Alfred is not going to enjoy this. Before Bruce has to convince him than putting on a bat costume is a sane idea; he's going to have to convince Alfred that he and Selina need to see each other (for learning about criminals and stuff…) And no, thank YOU for the support and the review. It's the best way to get in touch with fellow fans, so I hope you continue to tune in. Same Bat time, same Bat… url?

**13.** Dasha smith: Sorry for the late update, but here's more. Next chapter will be quicker!

**14.** Green Phire: Oh. My. God. You caught nearly every Easter Egg I hid there! First thing's first thou, thanks so much, so very much for the review. I found it so in depth that it honestly took me by surprise. I (as you can gather) am a very big fan of Bat/Cat (episodes 09 and 10 are my faves for this reason alone, even if 07 is a very good episode too) and it just felt right to add those traditions in here to make it feel more real. More like it could be a prequel to any of the Batman stories. So thank you, so very much for being so attentive and for taking the time to review. Hopefully, you've found this chapter entertaining and continue to read on. And again, thanks!

**15.** CircleInTheSand: Glad you do!

**16.** Guest (#4): I think she's a bit too old for that, isn't she?

**17.** alexisg200: Just did… Wait… you seem familiar…

**18.** ArmyWife22079: It's what she does, and he loves her for it!

**19.** james: Kudos!


	4. The Boy Wonder

**Rating:** T+

**Pairing:** Bruce/Selina

**Genre:** Romance, Suspense

**Notes:**

Ah, Gotham, why do I love you yet hate you at the same time?

Before I rant, that's below, I will say that Gotham has impressed me (the Baby Bat/Cat relationship, Oswald's epicness, the beautiful cinematography, Harvey Bullock being Harvey Bullock, etc.) but it had also disappointed me greatly (the villain-of-the-week approach, Jim Gordon lacking in the badass department, the universally loathed Barbara, the very big plot holes or stupid decisions these "smart people" tend to make, etc.).

This story, however, I will try to keep as originally intended. Two major intertwined plots (Bruce/Selina &amp; something else) with a few nods here and there to the bigger universe. So, with that said, enjoy the chapter. And a big "THANK U" to everyone who has read and reviewed my little gift to you fans!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Gotham.

* * *

The call from Cat came a little later than he had expected.

Even after he had told himself over and over again to stop anticipating any further contact with that girl, he couldn't help but be anxious which each passing day she had not contacted him at all. It took her nine days to make the call, nine days of Bruce having to lie to Alfred about the whereabouts of his phone; claiming to have lost it somehow. The elder man proposed a replacement, which Bruce got but urged Alfred not to disconnect the other one. His reasoning (which involved him "remembering" having lent it to a friend for his use and once his friend was done with it they could disconnect it) did not sound to convincing, especially since it retconned what he had earlier said about the phone (having lost it, not borrowed it), but Alfred allowed the boy to do as he wished.

So nine days after that horrible morning of nearly getting stabbed or worse by people who hate Cat (he could sort of understand them) and almost getting caught by Jim Gordon and subsequently getting grounded for life by Alfred; Cat called.

And Alfred answered.

"Wayne Residence."

Bruce couldn't _understand _what shewas saying, but he could make out her voice. He knew it was her. And he could probably guess what she was going to say based on Alfred's subtle facial expressions and responses. "I beg your pardon?" Alfred questioned, causing Bruce to stiffen. He internally begged any higher power to at least give her enough, just a little heart to not spill the beans on what had transpired that night. Alfred's follow up response, a polite sarcasm in the form of "really?" did little to put Bruce at ease.

"That he ain't," Bruce breathing got a little softer when Alfred spoke a little more laid back, meaning Cat hadn't unintentionally (or intentionally depending on his changing interpretation of her) ratted him out. Fittingly, giving her cred.

"Hold on just one secon' love, oi, Master Bruce!"

"Right here Alfred," Bruce quickly moved himself into view from the hallway, walking towards the phone. As he moved to pick up the phone, Alfred pulled it back just above his reach. "Now Master Wayne. What have I told ya about eavesdropping?"

"You said not to…" he automatically answered. "But I wasn't, I was walking towards the study room and heard you talking. Correctly guessed it was for me."

"That it is, a young Miss Irena; here you are."

He muttered a "thanks" to Alfred and proceeded to pick up the phone. "Bruce Wayne."

"Geez, are all you rich guys so stuck up? What's wrong with a simple "Hello?"" definitely Cat on the other end.

"So…" Bruce spoke up, making sure Alfred was out of earshot. "Your name's Irena?"

"Fat chance Cock Robin. That's a little alias I use every now and then; and if you don't want a spanking from yer butler, listen up!" as she spoke, Bruce felt himself a bit infuriated by it all. Not only was she still teasing him with that damn "code name", but he still didn't know her real one. Was she always this secretive? "First, I told your butler that I was, as you heard, a Irena Dubrovna, a class-"

"Irena Dubrovna? Seriously, Alfred's probably seen the movie."

"-mate… Is it that obvious?"

"Ca-Irena, the name works, change the surname. First, it sounds Russian, which you are not. Second, it's from a movie."

"…I'll consider it. Anyway, I probably mispronounced it, I think." She paused for a bit, probably pondering whether she had sunk herself or not with that lie. "Either way," she continued. "I told him I was a classmate of yours and that we have an assignment to finish due next week. So get your butt ready and tell him to drop you off at the public library. I'll find you once you're there."

"Wait, I wanted to drop in at Wayne Industries since I've been hearing some rumors lately about… Hello? Cat, I mean Irena? Hello? ...Damn."

She hung up.

-0-

"Here we are, public library," Alfred seemed to weight each word as he spoke, leading to a prolonged sentence. Bruce just looked at the library's entrance, before turning to Alfred.

"Thanks," the young boy spoke up, as he unbuckled himself. "I'll call you once I'm done. Do remember it is a big project, so it may take some time."

"No worries, I'll just fancy myself a party with some ladies at the manor until you are done Master Wayne."

Bruce gave a soft laugh as Alfred helped him exit the limousine. "You do that," was all Bruce said before telling Alfred goodbye and walking towards the library. Since he did not see Cat outside, he presumed she was waiting for him inside, so that way he went. Inside, quite the few people were scattered about, some reading, other writing, and some just talking in low, hushed voices. Not seeing Cat inside either, he decided to take a seat. If this was her idea of a practical joke he would have to stay a few hours just reading until he could call Alfred to pick him up. He hoped she didn't have that type of sense of humor.

He had never been too fond of jokes.

"Beg your pardon, my good sir?" he heard someone speak, and as he turned to see, a young girl sat across from him, legs crossed and with a book in hand. "I just find this such a delightful read."

"Almost caught me Cat. Almost," Bruce smiled as she actually seemed to pout.

"And after I got dressed up for you… men…" she placed the book down and rested her back against the chair she had sat on. Bruce eyed her for a minute. Maybe two. She looked… different? Not physically, per say, since the only thing she had changed was her clothing, a little less leather and a little more colors, and her hairstyle. But she seemed happy, glowing. "What?" she interrupted his staring.

"You look really nice."

"…Yeah, Cock Robin, we should head out."

"Cat, that name is going to get me attention I don't need or want."

"I told you rich boy, in the streets, if you want something you either earn it or steal it. So either you earn yourself a better nickname or kill some guy whose nickname you like and take it for yourself. If not, Cock Robin you stay."

"That's not fair."

"The streets ain't fair Cock Robin," and she stood up, leaving the book in the table. He eyed her as she walked closer. "Come," she spoke up, "We have some sightseeing to do!"

He didn't bother to ask. Knowing what little he knew of Cat, she loved surprises. Giving them rather than receiving, he presumed, but either way he probably wouldn't get an answer. Not a true answer at the very least. So he followed Cat as she made her way out of the library, and both kids nearly fainted upon coming face-to-face with Alfred Pennyworth.

"Alfred!"

"Master Wayne," he spoke, before turning to Cat. "And you must be Irena?"

"Ya," Cat's horrible attempt at a Russian accent made Bruce mentally want to strangle her.

"I just came back to give you Master Wayne," he spoke as he turned back to Bruce. "The friendly reminder to not "lend" your phone to any more of your irresponsible friends. Two bills is enough for one young man, I think."

"T-Thank you Alfred, I wasn't going to lend this one, to anyone," Bruce responded, trying his best to come up with a lie against the one man who knew him the most.

"Is that causing him trouble?" Bruce eyes widened as Cat spoke up, not at him but at Alfred; thankfully in her normal tone. Her bright green eyes stared softly at Alfred, who gave of a slight smile.

"Now then, you wouldn't be this "friend" he lent it to, would ya?"

"Yeah, I am," Bruce felt himself go pale as the conversation went on. What was she thinking? "My dad doesn't want me to have one since he thinks I'll be, in his words, "just chatting it up with boys until three in the morning". So Bruce told me to keep this one, well, after he accidentally left it at school and I called him to remind him about it. So now I can talk to boys… well, this boy, and we can do school work and stuff. Education and junk."

"Quite the gentleman, ain't he."

"Yep."

Bruce was lost.

He had no idea if Alfred was buying this little story or not. He didn't know what Cat was plotting or if she was just as lost as he was. All he knew was that he had to say something or risk everything falling apart. So, he analyzed the situation. Alfred was probably there to check up on him. His previous lie about the phone and such set of an alarm in Alfred, and the elder man was keeping a close (closer) watch. Cat's story fixed the plot holes in his earlier version, so he could go with that, but that left one unanswered question. Why are you two going outside when you came here to study?

He needed a reason, a good solid reason to go outside. He told Alfred he had come for a big project, which meant, it wasn't a test. Studying wasn't everything. He had an idea.

"Oi, Master Bruce," Alfred turned towards his you ward. "Why are you two going outside when you came here to study?"

Bruce smiled.

"We already did a bit of research, but I thought it would be fun to add something a bit more current," he began, his lie all set up. "The project is about the effect Arkham Asylum's reopening will have on Gotham City as a whole, which I chose for obvious reasons, and I wanted to a pay a visit to Jim Gordon and see if he could give me his perspective. We're heading there now."

As both Alfred and Cat stared, he could practically see the words "the hell?" floating above Cat's head; Bruce hoped he had sounded convincing enough to at least be given the benefit of the doubt.

"Very good, need a lift?" Alfred asked, and Cat practically stared through Bruce's skull with the glare she gave.

"We rather walk."

"Oh… Oh! Right then, carry on."

At this Bruce blinked, confused. Did Alfred buy it all? As Alfred told the two to be careful, no going into dark alleys and staying in public places, Bruce felt confused by his sudden turn until after both he and Cat began to walk away that he saw what Alfred did. He winked at him.

Alfred thought that he and Cat…

"Figures…"

"What?" Cat asked, walking besides Bruce, out of earshot of his butler. It had taken every ounce of self-control for her not to just turn tail and run.

"I think Alfred thinks I, well… it doesn't matter," she looked at him funny as he spoke, before turning to face the direction they were walking in.

"So, let's get going," she spoke up as she began to pick up speed, only to be stopped by his hand on hers.

"Cat, wait. I-We need to go to the GCPD building."

"What! Why the ever loving-?"

"Because that's what I told Alfred. He talks a lot with one of the officers, which is the one I told him I'd see. So if I don't make an appearance there, I'm caught," his words made sense, but she didn't change her expression at all. "…Cat?"

"I can't go there."

"What? Why?"

"Hello, thief," she spoke as she pointed at herself. "I know you don't know these streets at all, but the streets know me. I walk in there, I ain't walking out. Not without clawing someone's eyes out."

As Bruce wondered whether she was saying that figuratively or literally; Cat crossed her arms across her chest. "But…" she allowed the word to stretch out. "You can go in and out no problem, right. You know this guy. Jim Gordon. Say," she moved closer to Bruce, wrapping her arms around him, fingernails sharp as claws against his sweater. "Maybe you could steal something for me…"

"Absolutely not, those are the police! I couldn't steal from a prostitute, how am I going to rob a cop?"

"Kid, relax. You're with me, I'll tell you how," her words did not sound that reassuring. "Just get Jim Gordon to get you to his desk, and get him to leave you alone there. Then call me and I'll tell you want to do. You know my number, it's your own."

-0-

This was the stupidest thing he had ever done.

He had absolutely no idea why he was doing this. Maybe he had gone mad. That had to have been it. Because under no sane judgment would Bruce ever agree to steal something from the GCPD, from Jim Gordon much less, for some street thief. Maybe Alfred was on to something; he had fallen for her. Was this his way of trying to impress her?

"Bruce?"

It was Jim Gordon's voice, walking towards the young millionaire seated at the lobby. "What brings you here? Essen told me you came to see me."

"Uh, yes. I have a special assignment at school, which involves a case you recently had. I was hoping maybe you could give me a hand, Officer Gordon, if you are not too busy…"

Jim pondered it for a bit before nodding. "Alright, I guess I can give you something. It's not an active case, is it?"

"No, it's about Arkham, but more of its impact rather than any actual case."

"Alright, come to my desk, I can spare ten, maybe fifteen minutes," Jim said and he led Bruce towards his work station. As expected of Gordon, out of all of the desks and surrounding areas in the building, Jim's was the tidiest. Jim took a seat, while Bruce too one as well on the side of the desk, where potential victims would often seat. He felt bad, and sick to be thinking about stealing from Gordon…

…But at the same time, he felt a sudden thrill. A nervousness of whether he would make it or not. The same damn sensations the criminal lot felt every time the broke the law.

"Alright Bruce, ask away."

"Right," he muttered, coming back to reality. Questions, he didn't have any. He hadn't thought this through. He had been too busy thinking about stealing that he had not thought of the consequences of such an action. If he stole something from Gordon, even if Gordon didn't see it, he would still have been the last person near the desk. And Jim Gordon was far from stupid.

Furthermore, calling Cat up, even with Gordon far away, would still be heard by any of the other cops nearby; unless he spoke very softly, which would still garner attention as mysterious behavior. And lastly, if Alfred got word of this, he could kiss his freedom good bye. And at that moment it made sense.

'_You're something else Cat…'_

"Right," he repeated, in the same tone. "I just want to know your opinion about Arkham. Is it really safe for it to be reopened? I mean, like, is it prepared?"

"Well," Gordon started, pondering. "If you want the GCPD-friendly answer, then yes, it most certainly is. If you want an answer without any bul-malarkey, then clearly not. Arkham Asylum is almost as old as the city itself. And it has not been remodeled at all. I can't see anybody benefiting from treatment there at all."

For a fake topic of discussion, Bruce had been really interested by that response. It pretty much summed up his view of the place's current state. "And what would you recommend, for its betterment?"

"Better staff, and far more investment in security and equipment. That place has too many liabilities for it to be a stable-"

"Jim!"

Both Bruce and Gordon turned to look at an approaching Harvey Bullock, waving around a set of papers as he walked. Following closely behind was a young bespeckled man Bruce had not seen before. "Jim, get this, we're in deep shit."

"Harvey! Language," Jim corrected his partner.

"Oh shit, sorry abou-Oh shit. I mean, ah forget it, the kid lives with a general ripper for a butler, I'm sure he's heard worse."

He has, but not from Alfred…

"What Bullock here is trying to get across is a most stunning revelation we just received word of," the younger man spoke up, the one accompanying Bullock, in a calculative tone Bruce had not heard before.

"Alright Ed, what's going on?"

"Riddle me this," _Ed_, as Jim called him, started. "What is it that no man wants to have but no man wants to lose?"

As Jim looked on, waving his head in confusion about Ed's choice of revealing important information, Harvey seemed ready to smack him. "For God's sake Ed, enough with the riddles. Jim, R-"

"A lawsuit?"

The other three men stared. Bruce had spoken it without realizing it, not even sure if that had been what the riddle guy had been implying. He got his confirmation as Ed nodded while adding: "Yes, that's it exactly."

"Lawsuit?" Jim's tone got a bit louder.

"Yeah, Jim. Sionis is here threatening to sue us for entering his property without a warrant."

"Screw Sionis, is he's not responsible for those killings he damn well knows who did them."

"Tell that to these papers."

As Jim took a look at the files Harvey gave him, his burrow wrinkled with concern, he quickly turned to Bruce. "Bruce, can we do this some other time, I'm getting sued so maybe I can visit you or something?"

"Sure," Bruce spoke up, standing up. "The assignment isn't due until next week, just give me a call and we'll schedule."

With those words spoken and hands shaken, Bruce went and walked away from the desk and towards the lobby. He hoped Jim and Harvey would be alright; they were cops investigating a murder of some sort, so it gave them some leeway to try and mask it as a crime scene wherever it was that the got it without a warrant. Or at least Bruce hoped they could. As he walked away, he couldn't help but feel that Ed was staring at him.

"Bruce."

The voice was soft, somber. It sounded more like a rehearsed calling than an actual greeting. But, given the circumstances, Bruce sort of understood, or thought so at least. "Roman, been a while."

"Yeah," same tone, without bothering to look at Bruce. Standing crossed arms near the exit to the building was a childhood "friend" (acquaintance?), son of a wealthy family Bruce's own parents used to socialize with. Roman Sionis, son of Richard Sionis, who seemed intent on suing Jim and Harvey for everything they're worth.

"How's the family?" Bruce attempted small talk, not really sure why.

"Around, my father seems intent on getting money the easy way, idiot can't seem to see past his own actions to predict the consequences," as Roman spoke, Bruce felt a weird sense of pent-up rage and disinterest all rolled up into one. He had heard from his father that the Sionis family wasn't as happy as they made it seem, but Roman seemed downright hateful of his father in the way he spoke. Then again, given how sensitive Bruce had gotten on the topic of parents since his own parents' passing, he could be misjudging everything. He was well aware parents and children did not always get along perfectly; and not everything said was always meant. After all, Roman was three or four years older than him, so he was at that "rebellious age" everyone spoke about. And again, who was Cock Robin to judge?

"Takes a good wakeup call sometimes to realize what was there, huh?"

At this Roman made eye contact with him, and smirked. "True, one good call can do wonders."

"Yeah, anyway, hope everything resolves itself alright. It was nice seeing you Roman."

"Likewise Bruce."

With nothing else to be said, Bruce exited the building and walked to where Cat had said she would wait for him. The sight he came across surprised him. Cat was sitting on the floor, legs spread with a young feline playing with her fingers as she caressed him (or her) all across the back. One scene made Bruce understand her a lot more. Not just why she was called Cat, but who she was. Playful and harmful all at once, but never one to harm an innocent. And for the first time he understood something about the criminal world.

"I'm back Cat."

She turned to face him. "You never called."

"Wasn't supposed to, was I?" he gave her a knowing smile, taking a seat next to her in the same manner, locking the cat between their legs as the formed an oval. "Stealing from the GCPD is suicide, it's a fool's errand. Something not even you could pull off. You wanted to teach me to think things through, not to blindly go after a steal just because someone said so. To plan my thefts and choose my targets… right?"

"Let's go with that."

Not the answer he had expected. Still, for what it was worth, he was enjoying himself. More than he ever thought he could or would again.

"Also, Cat?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I've earned a change in nickname."

"That again, listen Co-"

"No, you listen," he hadn't meant it so rough, but Cat actually stopped speaking an eyed him a certain way he hadn't seen her look at, well, anything. "I-I earned it, like you said. I've already passed two lessons from you, stole a guy's wallet, outran Jim Gordon, successfully fooled by military trained butler, and I've managed to steal something no one ever has."

"Fifty five bucks?"

"No, your attention."

She was dead silent. He was wondering if she had understood it the way he had meant it to sound. In his reasoning, she had been paying a lot of attention to his progress and the like; so it was a fair assumption. As for being the only one to manage that, he had no idea, but he just didn't like the idea of anyone else taking her attention like that. For some reason or the other. But she still stayed silent. Even the cat was silent.

"C-?"

Then she laughed.

And he felt like strangling her again.

"That was so corny," she spoke between laughs, earning herself an embarrassed laugh from him. "Oh, what the heck, I like to see you squirm every time I call you Cock Robin, but I'll admit it is a bit weird for me to be seen hanging out with a guy with that stupid a name. Next thing I'll be getting called Pussy Cat."

"My point exactly," he said, avoiding eye contact.

"So come on then," she stood up; allowing the cat to go on his merry way. Then she turned and began to walk. "Come then, the day's still young. Let's go do what I wanted to do."

"Hey, but wait. What's my nickname then?"

It was here he understood. He wasn't interested in the criminal element. He didn't want to see their world, he wanted to see her world. He wanted to understand her. Because if someone can be so kind to those creatures that cannot give anything back, that someone couldn't be such a bad person after all. So he decided, upon that day, that no matter what, he would see the better nature of this girl, and never give up on her. Never.

"What do you think? You only have one alias."

"Huh?"

"You're my Robin."

* * *

The Author Rants About:

Other Characters Introduced Thus Far

This is a little biography section for you folks to know what I'm using from the Gotham canon and what I'm not for each of this characters introduced in these last chapters. First In, First Out; so:

**A. **Alfred Pennyworth: If there's one character Gotham did perfect, it's Oswald Cobblepot. But since he had yet to appear, let's talk about the second best guy. Alfred is pretty much the same as in Gotham, strict, but caring. Here Bruce and Alfred yet to do any actual "training" of sorts, but given that his teacher here is Miss Kyle, Alfred may have other things to do.

**B. **William Earle: A CEO of Wayne Enterprise, who's pretty much the same guy as he was in Batman Begins. And since Wayne Enterprise is rather corrupt, you know he is not that well intentioned as he seems. He'll probably pop up again, but is not really a major figure at all.

**C. **James "Jim" Gordon: The hero of another story, or canon. It's funny, because Gordon himself is a secondary hero in all of Batman's mythologies, so it evens out. Gordon is pretty much unchanged from Gotham. Granted, he's still an Officer of the GCPD, rather than a security guard at Arkham, but such is the fate of AU-ish stories.

**D. **Harvey Bullock: Utterly unchanged from canon. Harvey is still the same guy. Heck, his backstory in "Spirit of the Goat" is canon here as well, so, you know this guy already.

**E. **Barbara Kean: Utterly _changed _from canon. I won't go into a mad rant about why she sucks in Gotham, but here she is more like the version in Batman Begins and The Dark Knight. Caring, helping and somewhat naïve, but gentle. She did have that past relationship with Renee Montoya, but she's no drug addict, no longer with her and she's told Jim about both things already. They're much more stable here.

**F. **Lucius Fox: Again, The Dark Knight trilogy version, albeit younger. If he talks, just imagine Morgan Freeman's voice. Who am I kidding? You already have.

**G. **Julie Madison: She hasn't really appeared, but I've name-dropped her enough to warrant a spot here. Julie appeared in Batman &amp; Robin (unfortunately), but this version of her is based on a child version of her comic self. Given that she was the first love interest Batman ever had, she's a natural contender for the spot even today. Well, so long as daughters of demons or purple-loving reporters don't show up…

**H: **Edward Nygma: Riddle me this, who will this guy become? And that's not a riddle, that's just a question… Anyways, Edward here is his Gotham self, albeit toned a bit down to be less cartoony (Jim Carrey version) and a bit more clever and obsessive (Arkham Origins version). Still a good guy (for now), who just loves speaking in riddles.

**I. **Roman Sionis: Son of Richard Sionis (the bad guy from episode 08: "Masks"), Roman here is a teen who is evidently quite frustrated with his parents and the way the act. Like his comic book self, his parents force him to get along with Bruce and the elite to try and save face. Incorporating the Gotham storyline, his father is involved in killings, but Jim and Harvey have yet to prove it. Roman himself hates his father for always having such a false face.

* * *

The Author Responds To:

**1.** Croclover95: Fanfiction, for me, should be used to make your own canon. I simply can't, unless it's for a one-shot or something; be faithful to canon and still make stories interesting. I feel constrained. That's not what fanfiction is for. But I sincerely appreciate the response, the feedback, the sheer amount of positivism I received from your review. Thank you. I've done this story for those who feel Gotham should focus more on Bruce and Selina. This is the story for you!

**2\. **cokeerr: Thanks, and about him tagging along, she does have _something _up her sleeves right about now…

**3.** ArmyWife22079: That made me laugh. Yes, Selina will get Helena out of her relationship with Bruce… in twenty years or so.

**4\. **Solvdrage: Thank you, I love it to be compared to the show, it makes the story feel authentic. And as you can tell, this story has roots on pretty much all the batman media: The Animated Series, The Dark Knight trilogy, the Tim Burton films, the Arkham Games, heck, even the Adam West show!

**5\. **claire3loves3music: Yeah, I was actually conflicted about calling Bruce "Cock Robin". It is from an actual story (poem? fable? whatever), but given today's meaning, it did seem vulgar (in no way helped by Selina's "Pussy Cat" comment). But, since I intended to have Bruce use the "Robin" code, it seemed appropriate. Heck, the first Robin is called Dick, so…

**6\. **Mattia18: Thanks for the praise. I would not call this the best Gotham fanfiction (first, I would sound way too arrogant; second, I've seen some good stuff around here lately); but I am honored you think that way. If it is the best story here for you, then I've done my part. Thanks again!


	5. The Brave & The Bold: Part 1

**Rating:** T+

**Pairing:** Bruce/Selina

**Genre:** Romance, Suspense

**Notes:**

As of this writing, Gotham is on break. So while we wait for Season One to hurry up and finish (and hopefully deliver on the hype, since Oswald did mention a war and rivers of blood) I for one hope to fill the Gotham-shaped hole in your soul at the moment with an update to this little story of mine. This chapter is the first in three that sets the other plot I mentioned in last chapter's notes into motion. It will also move Bruce and Selina's relationship forwards, so that's something to look forwards to. Anyways, thank you all for the support and please enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own Gotham.

* * *

5:42

As Bruce glanced down on his watch, he saw that it had been over two hours since both he and Cat had left the library to go wherever it was Cat had in mind going to. Glancing down at his watch, his brand new watch, also reminded him that he had never managed to get his other one from Cat back. And he probably wasn't going to even if he tried.

"Robin!"

He heard her whisper a shout, somehow, as he turned his eyes to meet her cat-like ones. More and more, he understood why she was given that nickname. "What?"

"You space out a lot, stop that," she told him, as she continued watching from the alley they were currently at. It hadn't occurred to him before to ask why they were there, since he just assumed they were going to steal something Cat wanted. But looking at the place, it didn't seem likely. They were looking, like a hungry vulture in Cat's case, at an apartment complex in downtown Gotham, about forty-five minutes from the library Alfred had left him in. It took them more or less that time to get here, but Cat had insisted on just staring at the building for over an hour without telling him why.

He wanted to accompany her, half because it was thrilling and half to hopefully lower the collateral damage this girl would do if left to her own devices. So far so good in that respect at least, since with both of them staring at a wall left them little room for actual mischief.

"Look alive, it's our turn," Cat's voice was sharp, her gaze not even bothering to turn to him as she spoke. Bruce turned as he saw a sharply dressed man exit the apartment building, closing the gate which led to the main stairway which Bruce presumed led to the hallway were the apartments could be entered from.

Cat began to move quickly, sprinting towards the building as the man walked towards the nearby parking lot; with Bruce noticing she was actively avoiding being seen by him or making any noise whatsoever. Realizing he was going to be left behind if he didn't follow, he sprinted after her. Admittedly, he moved less graceful or secretively than her, since he knew even if the guy did spot him he wouldn't know who he was. Or at least he hoped he wouldn't.

Also, Cat didn't move as he expected, not that she ever did. Instead of going towards the gate with something to crack open the lock, she moved towards the fire escape and began climbing. It was here Bruce realized that if he was planning on chasing her everywhere she went, he would need something to reach rooftops easier.

But for now, he had to make due with jumping, grabbing and pulling himself up.

And he made another mental note: 'Do not focus so much on training to fight, exercise more first. I can barely lift myself…'

When he looked up to see where she was, all he caught glimpse of was her silhouette entering the furthest window on the building.

As she stepped down from the window, the leather clad girl looked around. The place was a mess. She entered through the bathroom window and it looked like if she had reached an abandoned basement by mistake… one with a working (she hoped) toilet. She moved around, avoiding moving anything too much, which was hard giving how everything was on the floor instead of on the shelves. She exited the bathroom and looked around, tiptoeing towards the bedroom and peeking her head inside.

"Selina, is that you?" an older woman spoke up, lying in bed with a blanket across her body. Selina, or what could be visible of her, smiled. She then entered the room and took a seat on the bed besides the elder woman. "Sweetie, how have you been?" the same woman asked her, her voice soft as if tired.

"Fine, a little hungry thou," Selina mentioned, cocking her head to the side. "Got anything to eat?"

"…Sometimes I feel you see this place as another playground to master your craft as a thief," she spoke with a laugh, as Selina just stared and frowned.

"Nonsense, I like to visit. By the way," Selina turned, facing the door. "What did Stan want now? I saw his car and I waited nearly two hours before I saw him leave. Is he-?"

"Just wanted to discuss a few things about the money, don't worry, I took care of it."

"…Ew."

"Don't knock it until you-did you hear that?" the woman asked as she heard a tumbling noise coming from the bathroom. As she looked in that direction, Selina stood up.

"Let me show you someone I brought over," as Selina walked towards the bathroom, out of the other woman's line of sight, she opened the bathroom's door. "If I was a guard, you'd be screwed."

"If you were a guard, you'd be severely underpaid to be guarding this place."

She laughed. "Come on, let me introduce you," as Selina spoke she grabbed Bruce's hand and pulled him out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, with him trying to ask what was going on and just who was he going to meet. "Mrs. Robinson, this is multi-millionaire, or billionaire, not sure, Bruce Wayne. But call him Robin."

Bruce, still stunned by not being in a robbery and being introduced to a woman who apparently lives in these conditions, just gave a short bow and spoke a soft "a pleasure" at her. Robinson stared, before letting out a soft laugh. "Wayne, is he for real?"

"Yep, he's under my wing as I teach him about the streets, he wants to be a bad boy gangster," Selina patted him hard on the back, to which he winced but said nothing. He turned to look at the lady, Mrs. Robinson as Cat had introduced, and wondered if _his_ nickname was in anyway because of her. He also noticed how relax Cat got when they got here, coming to the conclusion that she was very close to this lady. His thoughts, however, were stopped when he heard someone crying.

A baby from the sound of it.

"Like clockwork, let me tend to that," Robinson stood up from bed, allowing the sheets to fall to the floor. Without said sheets, Robinson was left without a stitch of clothing on, not that it seemed to bother her in the slightest; even in the presence of a young male. Said young male's eyes widened, as his face turned different shades while desperately trying to force himself not to look. He had never seen a nude woman in person before who wasn't family, and therefore, wasn't sexual in nature.

"Ah, hey, gross! Cover yourself. We have a virgin boy here! And me!" Cat's screamed as she pulled her hands over her eyes. Robinson just laughed as she walked in between the two kids and towards the living room; where the baby's cries were coming from. "Ah, I did not need to see that," Cat rubbed her eyes as she spoke, before turning to Bruce. "You on the other hand probably did."

"Is she a…"

"…Hm?" Cat stared, and Bruce noticed how her smile faded. His own breathing got heavier.

"I don't mean any disrespect. But the apartment, the guy who walked out, her state of… undress. That awful smell. Is she… you know, a…" he didn't know how to voice it. Or rather, how to voice it without getting Cat mad and earning himself a broken nose.

"Prostitute?" Robinson spoke as she walked in, now with a robe to cover herself and a baby on her arms. Bruce and Selina stared as she sat on the bed, and began to breastfeed the baby before answering. "Yeah, been one for a while now. No shame in it, kiddo."

"Ignore him, this idiot here is just to use to-"

"You do what you must to get by, for him right," he interrupted Cat. "My mother used to say there where two types of mothers out there. The ones who are women first, mother second; or those that are mothers first and foremost. I can tell you're like mom."

Cat just pouted, but didn't say anything; while Mrs. Robinson smiled at him. "Thank you young man, no wonder Sel here likes to have you around."

"Sel?"

"Cat!" she growled at him, the turned to her. "Cat."

"Oh, you're still doing that huh? Okay, Kitty, I'll keep quiet," Bruce just stared at Cat, as she refused to make eye contact with him. "Oh, and by the way, it's a girl."

Bruce looked as Mrs. Robinson spoke, signaling the baby. A young baby girl, no older than a year, currently having her late-lunch/early-dinner. "What's her name?"

"Holly," Cat answered, before walking towards Mrs. Robinson. As Holly finished her meal, Cat took her from her mother and began patting her back, to let her gases out. As she did, Bruce began to wonder how long she had been doing this. Looking at her, she seemed to be actually able to take care of children.

"Come on Holly, burp already, come on, come on, you've gotten fat, oh yes you have you little ball of drool and crap, yes you have!"

As Cat "conversed" with Holly, Bruce looked on. In her own weird (heavy emphasis on weird) way she looked very maternal. Then he heard the baby make some sort of noise. "Not sure that was a burp, but anyway, any new clientele?"

Robinson smirked. "Knew you'd be interested. One big shot tycoon came over, quite high and interested in some weird kinks."

"Spare us the details, did you get something?"

"Just some keys he had in his pockets; a set of three. From their size I don't think it's from a door, but rather a safe or gate… But S-Cat, I don't think you should pay a house visit to this one," Mrs. Robinson tone shifted, from relaxed to serious. Cat just looked at her and blinked, as if awaiting her to continue and explain.

"House visit? Cat, what are you-?" Bruce questioned as he turned to Cat, only for her to shake her head.

"Robi here, erm, entertains gentlemen, well, _mostly_ gentlemen for a few hours, and sometimes snatches a few things from the ones with big bucks," she began to gently swing Holly on her arms, as the toddler began to look for something up her own nose. "Then I use that to pay a house visit and steal a few things of interest. It is easier to break into a place if you have the keys or whatnot from."

"But like I said," Mrs. Robinson resumed. "This one isn't easy. The guy didn't give a name, but we know him from around here. Sionis, he's very well connected, for a white collar."

"Mr. Sionis? As in, Richard Sionis?" Bruce blurted out, to which Robinson nodded. Before he could ask, he felt Cat's smile widen as if she had been slashed by a knife from cheek to cheek. It was a very unsettling smile.

"Oh that's right, you rich folk know each other, don't ya Bruce Wayne…?"

-0-

The Sionis household may not be as big as Wayne Manor, but you could easily be fooled into thinking it was given the amount of security the place had. From security guards circling the premises, to high-tech cameras set up on nearly every corner of the mansion; it seemed like an impenetrable fortress. While Wayne Manor had security, with a few Wayne-Tech tools around, a few guards who were on call if anything were to transpire, and first and foremost a very capable and easy to anger Alfred in a room next to Bruce's; the security around the place was almost twice as heavy as anything Wayne Manor ever had. Even the gates were taller, with sharp spikes set up as "decorations" adorning the top for unsuspecting burglars to be stabbed to death for their troubles.

Both Bruce and Selina hid behind a few very well decorated bushes; both of them studying up how the guards moved and were each and every camera they could see rested at and what area did they most likely cover. It was, as Cat explained, the first step of any successful robbery: Reconnaissance.

They both had to observe, to see what laid before them.

All Bruce could see was a wall.

All Selina saw was a jungle gym.

"Cat, how are we-"

"It's simple," she interrupted, not that he was surprised. "With climbing our way up being out of the question thanks to those spikes up there," she mentioned as she pointed with her index finger to the top of the fence. Even from where they were currently crouched, those things looked mighty sharp. "We're going to have to squeeze our way through the gates poles. The look separated enough to allow two skinny kids to squeeze in."

"Are you insane?" Bruce had to force himself not to shout; he just raised his tone a little bit in order to get his message across. She couldn't be serious about just going in through the front gate, with the cameras and the guards ever present. Then again, when was she not serious when it involved getting into trouble?

"Probably, but this is no big deal. I get in and out of your manor with ease."

"That's different, my ma-You've been in my home!"

"…Oh, right," she gave him a grin and stuck her tongue out at him. "Guess even I screw up at times. Yeah, I meant to tell you. You have a lovely home."

"Cat, seriously?" he wanted to strangle her. He never noticed her presence in his own home. "Wait, are you the reason the milk keeps ending so quickly?"

"Probably, but enough about that. Focus," as she spoke she began to move, leaving a confused and irritated Bruce Wayne behind. He was going to seriously talk to her later about that. But he opted to focus now with what was going on. He watched as Cat systematically moved towards her objective. Each step calculated, but with such a quick flow that it seemed more on impulse than the scripted way he knew she moved about on each and every robbery she did.

His thoughts then shifted on just what he was doing. Richard Sionis was not the best public figure, he was hardly a good man from what little he remembered his mother mentioning to him. But be that as it may, his son Roman was, in essence at least, a friend of his. Moreover, even if they were bad people (with Richard's apparent frequent visits to receive sex in exchange of money, despite having a wife at home) neither Bruce nor Cat had any right to steal from them. But he knew that if he wanted his deal with Cat to work, he needed to play along. He could help her, but he needed to follow her for now. So he would.

Then he would make sure to pay back everything Cat stole back to the Sionis family; without her knowing of course.

She signaled him, and then he noticed that she was already inside. Not just inside the gate, but she had climbed a heavy leafed tree on the Sionis yard. Thanks to the black leather hoodie Cat wore, all he could see was her hand signaling him and her sharp eyes looking at him, waiting for his response.

It was his turn.

It was luckily for them that it was getting dark, so avoiding detection was a bit easier.

And he moved. He tried to imitate Cat's movements, keeping his eyes on the camera. The camera on the right gate moved counterclockwise from one edge to another, while the one on the left gate was stationary. If he timed it right, like Cat did, he could get in while both cameras where locked on one particular spot, leaving the edge of the gate where Cat got in unprotected for about four seconds.

He couldn't believe how nervous this made him. But he moved.

He hurried his step, reaching the gate the moment the camera turned away, his objective clear. Move his body sideways, press himself against the gate, between the bars, and squeeze through. So he moved his body, pressed himself and…

…his phone rang.

'Darkness! No parents!' sounded the lyrics of his ringtone, causing Bruce to madly scramble for his phone to shut it down, but realized the camera was going to catch him anyway. But worse still, one of the guards had heard and was walking towards him. So he decided to improvise.

He removed himself from the gate before the camera got him, and instead rested his back against it. The camera caught him with his back to the gate, his gaze lowered so it couldn't get a clear shot of his face, with his hand and phone towards it as he answered.

"Hello," he tried to sound natural.

"Master Wayne."

He figured it would have been Alfred. The man had a six sense when it came to Bruce being in trouble or getting into it. "A-Hey, man, what's up?" he had to avoid using names, he didn't want this to end up getting him caught.

"…Not much, _man_, but it has gotten a tad late has it not? Should I come pick you up?"

"Oh, I, erm, not yet actually, I'm still-"

"Hey kid, this is a private property," came the voice from the guard. The very tall, muscular guard who seemed to have a pistol tucked away. Armed security, that couldn't be good.

"Who was that?" Alfred questioned, having heard another voice.

"Just a guard, I got to close to a private gate or something," Bruce turned to the guard, his head still a bit lowered. "Sorry, didn't know it was wrong, since I'm on the outside. But I'll go away, sheesh…"

The guard said nothing, but Alfred sounded bemused when he spoke. "And what's with that attitude?"

"I, well, you know how it is," Bruce needed to know how to explain what was coming out of his mouth. Just telling Alfred he didn't want the people around him to know who he was, was going to get Alfred suspicious about just where he was and what he was doing. And that he didn't need. Then he remembered Alfred's comment earlier. "Some guard came and told me off," he spoke while pressing the phone to his mouth, as if trying to keep what he was saying from being heard by people next to him. Imaginary people giving he was currently alone. "And I didn't want to Irena to see me just chicken out, so I acted a little tough-er, you know…"

"Ah, to impress the lady?"

"Yeah," he wasn't really sure how much of this was he making up. Does becoming a criminal count as a way to impress a girl?

"Is that why this project has taken so long to be completed."

"…A fair assessment."

"Very well," Alfred voiced, and Bruce hoped he had been convinced. "I'll allow a little more time for you lovebirds to hang out," Bruce was about to thank him when Alfred continued. "But," there was always a 'but'. "You may not stay out longer than 10:30, understand?"

Bruce glanced at his watch. 7:55

"Understood."

As he bid his farewells to Alfred, with his butler giving him further "tips" on how to impress his female companion, Bruce turned his attention back to the mansion. He noticed two things.

One, the guard had stationed himself directly where Bruce had attempted to enter from.

Two, he could no longer see Cat.

-0-

For Selina Kyle there were very few things in life that could compare to the thrill of a heist. This was her viewpoint, what she believed in. In life you got what you earned. It didn't matter if you were born in mud, if you had to crawl just to live. If you could get something, if you had the skill to get something, then it was yours. As simple as that. If someone could stop her, then she didn't deserve what she wanted. But she knew better.

No one could stop her.

She had jumped from the tree and towards the mansion she saw the guard begin to walk towards the gate. Robin wasn't in trouble, he was outside and he had played it cool enough. At least it gave her one less guard to worry about, even if it did mean Robin had gotten an F in breaking and entering. But he was the stupid one for not shutting his phone off. She should have stolen that one too.

So she ran through the garden, her eyes glimpsing all around but not catching anything worth stealing. It was to be expected. Good things would not be left outside. A garden gnome was not worth much in the black market.

Once she got close to the mansion, she jumped and reached the nearest window.

It was locked, as expected.

She looked through the window, noticing that the room inside seemed to be some sort of study, filled with books and a desk with a computer and several folders and files. Boring work stuff, without a safe in sight. So maybe it was out-of-sight, as all safes should be.

She took out the keys Mrs. Robinson gave her from her breast pocket, each of them different, likely for opening different things. Or maybe something big with three locks. Whatever it was, it wasn't for opening this window. The window had a manual lock, which she could spot on the right corner. So, plan B.

Selina took out a ring from her other pocket, placed it on her middle finger and admired it for a minute. "You could fetch a pretty penny," she mentioned looking at the small diamond on the tip. "But, you're so much more useful with me. After all…" she spoke softly, pressing the diamond against the glass and scratching it in circular motions. "…a girl needs her jewelry."

After some effort she heard the glass make a noise, and with her sharp nails she carefully pulled the circular shaped glass she had just broken off the window. This gave her arm enough room to enter the hole and unlock the window with ease. "Perfect."

One open window later Selina found herself scavenging the office she had just broken into. The computer was turned off, and it was an old model. Definitely not the one this super rich family used. The each probably had better ones in their rooms or something, and this one here was not worth much out there. So she left it alone.

Out of nothing but curiosity she skimmed through the files, seeing if anything peaked her interest. Most where about work things, things their company had recently bought, a few sheets of inventory, a worksheet with various names of what she presumed were employees and such. But one did caught her eye. It was another work-related document, but it was less an inventory sheet and more of a blueprint of some sort. Like a satellite or something, at least that was what she could decipher from it.

But more than that, what caught her eye wasn't that it was a drawing, but that it wasn't from Sionis.

"Wayne Enterprise?" she muttered, surprised and curious at the same time. "I didn't know these losers had ties to the kid's company…"

Then she remembered. She recalled him saying that he wanted to go to his company because there was something he wanted to make sure of, or something along those lines. She would be the always sweet hearted girl she was and tell him about it. It was the least she could do. "I'll let Robin know, for a price…" she spoke with a smile. "Maybe I'll get his to kiss me for it or something."

She bounced across the room a bit, seeing if anything else caught her eye, but once she was certain nothing did she proceeded to the door towards her next destination. And she was met by a guard entering the room.

"Hi!" she exclaimed. "Am I early for the party-Shit!"

Instead of the expected reaction from the cop of either attempting to restrain her or using the walkie-talkie he had to announce her presence to the others, the guard was quick to grab his pistol and take ready aim at her. Her developed ability to see well in the dark and to pay attention to detail helped her caught wind of his intentions on time.

She moved.

She jumped, her feet bouncing her body up the wall to reach higher that the man's stature, using her weight plus gravity to jump the man and bring them both down before he could pull the trigger. As the both fell back onto the hallway, which had some paintings that should be worth something, Selina proceeded to grab hold of his hair and slam his head against the floor as hard as she could. He made a grunt upon receiving the hit, which she took as indication that he needed to be hit again. And again.

Once the guard was knocked out, Selina took the pistol from his hand and examined it, frowning. "It is loaded," she observed, perplexed by the harsh response. "Seriously, you find a soon-to-be fifteen year old girl in the house and your first response is to shot her brains out? Seriously, not cool!"

She then froze, her eyed widening.

The guard had his walkie-talkie on, a small light emitting under the words "sending" blinking. She felt her whole body shiver, and she heard it. The steps, they were coming towards her. That guard had found her by mistake; the others where now onto her. And if his response was any indication, she was going to be shot on sight. For once she was thankful the kid had messed up his entrance.

"There she is!"

She heard one of the shout, and she ran inside the room again. The shout had come from her left, which if she had seen it right during her scuffle with the guard, meant they were coming in from the stairway. She had to go down while they were coming up.

So she ran to the window, fully intending to shatter her way through.

But the moment she got close enough to see the yard, she saw them. The guards, and the guns. Then she heard the shots, followed by the breaking of the glass.

She couldn't held back the scream.

She was forced to pull back to avoid getting murdered, as the bullets tore through the air and into the room, the rough sound echoing through her. She laid down, her back against the wall, her heart on her throat. "Wh-What are they guarding! Shit!" she spoke between very deep breathes, before she bit her lip as hard as she could. "Get yourself together Kyle, focus damn it, you can get out. They don't expect you to take them out," she clenched her fist, feeling her sharp nails against her skin. "They don't expect you to claw their eyes out!"

So she ran, this time towards the door.

She timed it right, just as she heard their footsteps reach the doorframe. And she pounced. She heard one of them curse as she landed her entire weight against his chest, pushing him backwards and onto the ground. Even in the dark she saw it, three men, all with guns drawn. As the first one feel, one of them seemed surprise by the sudden attack, but the other responded quickly, too quickly. He fired a shot at her, which she evaded by sheer luck since she had already jumped towards the other guy. She heard the shot pierce flesh, and realized that the guard had attempted to shot her without caring if that if she evaded he would his the other guard. And he did.

The guard who was shot cried out, while the one Selina reached attempted to hit her with the handle of the gun he was pointing at her, but she was already too close, and she ducked under his arm and swung both her legs across his neck and pushed him downwards, causing his head to slam against the floor. She used the momentum of his body crashing to launch herself towards the final trigger-happy guard.

She felt her phone ringing, or rather, vibrating. She wasn't stupid enough not to silence it like a certain somebody. Thinking about the kid, it was probably him calling him having heard the shots. But he'd had to wait, at least until she got rid of this last pesky guard.

The guard attempted to shot her again, but she was very pissed this time. She reached his face, and pressed both thumbs into his eye sockets, earning herself a pain-filled scream of pure agony. He fired, blindly, but she pressed her leg against his arm to point the gun to the wall, as he emptied his gun on the very nice paintings. Not worth much anymore, sadly.

She finished by slamming his head against the floor; followed by kicking the guard that had been shot in the face as he attempted to aim at either her or the guard that had shot him, she couldn't tell.

And she breathed heavily, her whole body shacking. "Shit, shit… You bastards are horrible hosts. I could have died from…"

She cursed. One more guard came up from the stairs, but he was further than any of these had been when she jumped them. As expected, his first reaction was to point his gun at her, so she sprinted towards him. She jumped on the walls, wall-kicking herself in a zigzag motion until she was close enough to him to strike. He fired at her, twice, trying to line his gun to her body.

She reached him, and using the gun from the first guard that had taken her off-guard, she smacked him across the face, blood spilling all over the floor as he tumbled back and down the stairs in a painful sounding way. She crouched, and it was then she felt it.

The piercing pain.

The moment she landed after hitting him, she felt a sharp piercing pain on her right leg. Her hand automatically found the source of the pain, and her eyes widened. Blood gushed out of her leg, painting her hand and surrounding leather cloth into a deep shade of dark red. Worst still, was a strong burning she felt inside the wound. She understood what happened, she got shot. Either the first or last bullet that bastard had shot at her had hit her on the leg, on her upper right thigh. And with this she lost her most precious survival ability.

Mobility.

Worst of all was the noise. The horrible noise of footsteps running towards her direction. Three shots in less than two minutes gave her location away quicker than any walkie-talkie could. So she forced herself to move.

Limping as fast as she could, holding her leg in a vain attempt to keep the blood from gushing, she moved further into the mansion. She saw lights further into the hallway, most likely where Sionis was if he was in here; and most likely were more guards were at if he believed he was being targeted by somebody if their response to her intrusion was anything to go by.

She felt the steps get closer to her, from behind. So she moved. Selina spotted an open closet on the hallway, which she used to hide. She jumped using her good leg and grabbed the top shelf, pulling herself up and out of view. She considered closing the door, but that would probably make it more obvious. She hoped the blood hadn't formed a trail towards her, but her worries would be answered in a moment.

As the guards approached.

She froze. Her breathing stopped, her claws out and her body motionless.

Then they ran past her location. She heard them shouting. "Crap! The intruder knocked out five already," one said to another, as they all ran. Roughly ten men ran past the closet. "I know," another answered. "We need to reach Mr. Sionis, the intruder moved this way, hurry!"

And they all vanished towards Mr. Sionis. Selina let out a deep breathe, followed by a soft cry. Then she felt a stronger pain. It was her phone again, vibrating against her wounded leg. Why didn't the phone catch the bullet? That would had been much more useful. She took it out, as carefully as she could, and glanced at it. It read: 'Bruce'.

"Bruce," she spoke softly, trying not to catch any unwanted attention. She had her hand covering the phone and her mouth, her whole body beginning to shake. "Bruce…"

"Cat, Cat! What's going on, are you alright? I heard shots! Someone was shooting, it wasn't against you, right, are you-Cat!"

He heard her cry.

She was crying softly, against the phone. "Bruce," she repeated his name, in a tone he had never heard her use before. In a tone he had never wanted to hear her use. "They got me, they shot me!" she had to bite her lip, as she unknowingly raised her voice. "They're going to kill me."

"What! No, Cat, no," she heard him begin to panic, as he stumbled on what to say. "They can't do that! Even if you are attempting to rob them! You can't kill someone like that! You need to call the GCPD! I mean, they need-"

"This is Gotham Bruce," her voice was somber again, soft, but composed. "They'll just throw my body in a lake or something," she paused for a moment, hearing an argument coming from the direction the guards went towards. They had probably reached Mr. Sionis, made sure he was okay, the proceeded to search every nook and cranny of this mansion until the found her. And given her condition, find her they will.

"Then I'll call the GCPD! I'll call Gordon, just hold on a-"

"He won't make it in time."

"Don't say that," he shouted into the phone. "T-Then I'll call Alfred!"

"You're butler is even further away," she let out a soft chuckle, as she heard each deep breathe he took. "You know," her tone changed slightly. "I'm glad you're not here with me. At least you'll be safe. Get out of here, a-and… please stop trying to become involved with the streets anymore, alri-"

"I'm coming to get you."

"What! No, Bruce, don't even think about it," now she was close to screaming. Even with everything she did, with everything she wanted to do, she couldn't possibly let him get hurt. She has done so many bad things in the past, but she wasn't going to let him die. "There' nothing you can even-"

"I saw my parent's die, Cat…"

She stopped, closing her eyes. A few tears squished through her eyelids and fell down her cheeks. "I know…"

"I'm not losing you!"

"Bruce, don't-" she stopped talking. She heard their steps again, closing in on her. In her mind she considered either staying in the closet and hoping she wasn't found, or running as best she could before they got here. Either option was dangerous, as the closet wasn't the best place to hide nor could she run very much with her leg in that state. So she was left with the choice of _where_ she wanted to die; not with a way to avoid it. And the sounds got louder, each step a murderous thunder which echoed throughout the empty hallways. It was the last sound she heard, before hearing Bruce's voice speak softly to her.

"I will save you."

* * *

The Author Rants About:

Soft-Reboot

As you may have noticed, this fiction previously titled "SIRENS" (all caps, because I can) was renamed as "Chase Me". Two reasons for this:

A. It fits the story better. Sirens was a reference to the Gotham City Sirens comic books, which features Selina Kyle as a major figure. While fitting, given her importance here, the comic was more about the partnership/friendship between Selina, Pamela and Harleen rather than Selina's growing relationship with Bruce. And while (MINOR SPOILER – Read After This Paragraph If You Don't Want To Be Spoiled A Little Bit About This Story) both Pamela and Harleen will appear here, they are not a major focus.

B. Chase Me is the title of a very Bat/Cat short in the style of Batman TAS, and the title actually fits with the plot. This story is about Bruce chasing after Selina and trying to become more involved in her life while they both become who they are to become.

The summary has also been updated, better reflecting the upcoming plot of the fiction. While I mention a soft-reboot, it really isn't. None of the past chapters have been contradicted. It's just that my original idea for this story was only about 10 or so chapters, but the story would not stop growing until it became something much bigger. So, without ruining what I originally planned, the story is now a lot bigger than originally intended.

Hope you all enjoy this as much as I have!

* * *

The Author Responds To:

**1.** ArmyWife22079: So true! Given just how, eh, _attracted _Bruce and Selina are to one another even in canon works; it's a given they will be as most teens are… hormonal. And as a special note, I will be touching upon an "origin story" of sorts for Selina's whip here, so, yeah…

**2\. **alexisg200: Thanks! And yep, risky situations are here to stay. Much riskier than even Selina could have predicted.

**3.** John: You're great!

**4\. **Guest (#1): Just did! Hope you enjoyed!

**5\. **Araytigre: Yes, he would have gotten caught; the Gordon would have called Alfred, Alfred would have grounded him until he was 30, he would have never become obsessed with bats, and the entire reality would have perished when the Anti-Monitor attacked without Batman's help to stop it… wow, what one call can do!

**6\. **Guest (#2): It was funny for her too.

**7\. **Basilisk's Fang: Thank you, and I hope you stick around for the rest of the story. And I will reread the past chapters and see if there is anything I can correct. If you or anyone else sees anything wrong (spelling, grammar, continuity errors, etc.) please let me know. I want this to be as best as I can!


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